A Secret of the Sea
by FuschiaLady101
Summary: Guinevere was only 7 when she washed up on a strange shore almost dead with no memories of her past. Now, 14 years later, she has recently been banished from her home by Arthur. However, her dreams turn to a mysterious memory of a grand ship and a terrible storm. Gwen must use her courage, wit and instincts to survive her adventures, and solve the riddle of who she really is.
1. Quattor Secui Extraho i

Quattor Secui Extraho (i): 'A Grey Shoreline'

The first thing she felt as she slowly started to return to reality was her breath. She could feel it come in, out, in, out. The black void that completely filled her mind was still there, but receded a little as she felt the cold air whip down her throat, and in it she tasted a salty tinge; the saltiness of the sea.

All she could see was black, her hearing had not fully returned, and she found she was too exhausted to move. Her panic forced the blackness back a little more, and she began to hear the repetitive sound of gentle waves.

The chill in the air around her slowly but surely started to push away the black into the recesses of her mind, but she felt almost numb with cold. Her skin started to prickle at the icy wetness of her dress and the feeling of the waves rolling up to her tiny hands, laying palm-down next to her head.

The sand underneath her weight shifted very slightly when the wave came rolling back in again, and she began to see grey before her closed eyelids where there had only been black.

It took a lot of effort, but she managed to open one eyelid slightly, to find that she was lying face down on a dull, grey beach. Her eyes closed again, and she felt tempted to fall back into unconsciousness again. She felt terrible and completely devoid of all emotion. She was just about to, when she realised that she probably wouldn't wake up again if she did. This motivated her enough to open both her eyes this time, and raise her head an inch above the sand.

Her frozen fingers immediately moved to try and get a firmer grip on the sand, and she looked both ways, and realised that she was the only person on the beach as far as the eye could see.

Using her elbows this time, she managed to lift her entire upper body off the ground so that she was sitting upright. Her eyelids felt heavy as she slowly turned to get a real look at where she was.

She didn't recognise this shoreline, there were no ships out on the grey waves or any port in either direction. The only sounds apart from the soft, shushing sound of the small waves was the cry of a seagull above her in the slate-grey sky.

She looked down at herself. Her dress, made of a very fine purple velvet was in rags and soaking wet. She had no shoes and her long, almost black hair was tumbling about her shoulders, heavy from the wet.

Gradually, after sitting on that grey beach for what seemed like an age, simply staring at the world around her, she suddenly realised.

She couldn't remember what had happened to her.

She couldn't remember where she came from.

She couldn't remember who her parents were.

All she knew was that her name was Guinevere, she was seven years old and she was in a strange, new world.

Sitting in that picture of grey, she began to cry soundlessly. Why couldn't she remember? What had happened to her? Why was she all alone on this foreign beach? After all her tears had run down her frozen mask of a face, she lifted herself unsteadily to her feet. She balanced with her arms and tried to take a small step forward. She instantly fell to her knees. She tried again, and again, and again. She decided to give it one last try before she finally gave up. Barely lifting her foot, she moved it slightly to the right, but did not fall over. She took a deep breath and moved her other foot. With a little more energy, she lifted her foot completely off the ground and placed it steadily in front of her. With a few more tries, she could walk perfectly well. Her feet were beginning to have a blue-ish tinge about them, despite being the colour of coffee, and she stopped dead, staring out at the grey horizon whilst she thought. 'Should I wait here, or go further inland?' She decided she could wait here forever, and still no-one would probably find her. Swivelling on her heel in the sand, she wandered towards the sand dunes, blowing to the left in the sea breeze. With one last look at the beach, she turned towards her future in this unfamiliar world.


	2. Quattor Secui Extraho ii

Quattor Secui Extraho (ii): 'Fire and Blood'

After walking inland, off that shore a year ago, she had wandered for many moons, not knowing where she was going or what to do. She had slept under the stars, and had begged for food from remote little villages. Some were more hospitable than others, but she had learnt how to get by from other children, their mud-streaked faces smiling sweetly at her as they taught her how to pick-pocket.

She would sit in the dirt next to the stalls at markets in larger towns, hoping that she might be able to find a scrap of food underneath the merchants' feet or would be given some by a cordial stranger.

She often heard the talk between wives, buying food for their families or from the men outside the taverns. She had discovered that there was a great purge in the nearby kingdom, and that magic had been banned on penalty of death.

She continued on through the world, not knowing what would become of her. She was found almost unconscious from exhaustion by a kindly sorcerer on the outskirts of a moderately sized village, having gone too long without rest. He took her in, gave her unconditional hospitality and soon she was perfectly well.

She discovered him using magic by accident, and she had been initially wary of him at first as she remembered the gossip and hushed tones whenever magic was the subject of conversation, but she discovered he shunned the use of dark magic, and only sought to help and care for those in need. She was slightly scared for him, and she voiced her fears to him, but he told her that they couldn't touch him here, that they wouldn't dare enter Lot's kingdom.

When she showed him her pick-pocketing skills after a large, rude man had tried to take the little money that he had, he taught her how to hunt with a bow and arrow, which berries were and weren't safe to eat, how to skin and cure animals, all that she would need to know to survive in the wilderness.

She had a natural affinity for her bow, and was a crack-shot since she picked it up. She learnt how to carve a bow and arrows using the branches of trees and her little knife. She couldn't imagine a more perfect existence, but that might have been because she had not known a better one.

After several months, she had chosen to live with him for the foreseeable future, and all was happy for a time, but it was not to be. The purge finally caught up with them, and fearsome warriors dressed completely in black came, setting fire to the hut where they lived and slaughtering the old sorcerer where he stood after he tried to protect her from them.

She managed to hide herself from the warriors under the bed, but the flames were not so easy to deceive. She had almost died trying to get out of the hut, and she ran off into a nearby ditch next to the murky river. She saw them ride away down a little but worn path, atop there fine horses and the malicious gleam of the fire in the village setting their swords' blades ablaze.

After making sure that all of the black riders were gone, she went back to the charred remains of the once peaceful village. The houses, made of wooden planks and the roof thatched, made perfect conditions for the fire to spread ambitiously, quickly setting the entire house on fire with its occupants still inside. Some pieces of wood were still burning when she walked through, her wide, hazel eyes still trying to believe what she was seeing. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils, making her want to be sick. There were no other bodies in the lane, which puzzled Gwen. Where was everyone? It took a little while to realise that the bodies were not in the street, but in the blackened frameworks of the once-huts. They had thrown everyone into the houses and set fire to them, with the people still inside. The men, women and children had died together in their homes. The huts had become their funeral pyres.

The thought that such atrocious ideas could cross a man's mind, let alone carry them out struck Gwen as an abomination against humanity. It made her blood boil in her veins that people could be so despicable.

She found the sorcerer's body, his scarlet blood making pools on the ground around him. Gwen's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she managed to drag his corpse to a 150-year-old oak tree, grief and sorrow welling up in her heart. She buried him underneath its wide canopy of the tree's deep green leaves, trembling as the branches of it creaked and groaned when the soft wind whistled through.

She grieved for him for the rest of the day, kneeling in the slightly wet leaves and letting her silent misery show in the tears that ran freely down her small face. She realised that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't stay there forever, despite the fact that all she wanted to do in that moment was curl up on the ground next to his grave and drift into sleep.

She returned to the remains of the village and managed to gather enough firewood and some kindle to keep her warm throughout the night.

The sun had almost completely dipped behind the trees by the time she had a small fire going, a far enough distance away from the tree not to set it accidently on fire, but still close enough that she could easily see her guardian's grave.

While she was with him, he taught her to ask for nothing as selfless help was the greatest gift of all to those in need. She was determined to continue to show his kindness and empathy to others. With these thoughts in her troubled mind, she lay down, curled into a ball, and drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

She had rose just as dawn was beginning to mark the new day, the unseen bird singing high in the treetops to their brethren. With one final, longing glance, she left her guardians grave to seek a new home, but she felt that she could never find any place like his company.

Her grief was still fresh in her mind when she walked into a nearby village. She could smell cooking meat, but it smelt so much like the burning bodies of those innocent people, she had to force herself not to throw up. She moved upwind of the smell as quickly as she could, and sat with her back facing a wet, wooden wall.

The wetness of falling rain began to cascade onto her dirty head and slightly matted hair, and she hastily went to an overhang on one of the houses. She watched as the rain began to get gradually heavier, until little brown streams started to trickle down the muddy indentations of feet in the road. A strong breeze made ripples in the falling rain, and she heard a creaking, like a door on squeaky hinges. Looking up, she saw a sign for 'The Wind and Water Inn'.

Gwen felt a grim, sad smile be etched onto her face. Perhaps it would be useful to liberate a few thugs of their coppers. With a look up at the inn door, she silently crept in to the heat and stench of the inn.


	3. Quattor Secui Extraho iii

Quattor Secui Extraho (iii) 'A City Called Camelot'

Her feet were beginning to pound in her sturdy leather boots as she continuously made her way through the forest. It had been nearly a year since that barbarian attack on her new home, and still she hadn't found a place to live. She had drifted through countless isolated towns and villages, all of them blurring together till she couldn't remember which one was which.

No-one had been willing to take her in. However, she had been shown considerable hospitality from mothers and children, easily parting with what little food they could spare. She was ignored by the men of the villages, but she didn't mind. She wanted to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

Gwen had been living in the wood, either on the outskirts of the village or deep in the wilderness, her campfire keeping her warm and the stars shining their cold light upon her. Rarely had she slept in the villages. She had successfully avoided trouble with bandits, slavers and hostile wildlife, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She had carved a short-bow and arrows from the wood that the forest had provided, making her quiver from rabbits' hide. She had honed her hunting skills easily enough. If she didn't catch anything, she didn't eat. She sometimes sold her catches at the various markets and stalls for a few coppers, in order to buy bread. Or she saved up the meagre amount of money for a new piece of clothing or equipment.

Gwen's thoughts drifted from her way of living back to the present and she came across a small clearing. She started to see something that looked like white turrets just above the tops of the trees. Although desperate to rest her aching feet, the white light of it kept distracting her. She started to make her way towards it, bow in hand.

Curiosity keeping her going, she was rewarded with a great view of a large white city that shone in the warm afternoon light. Pale banners flitted in the breeze blowing from the west, and she could faintly hear the bustle of city life.

Satisfied that her curiosity had been set at ease, she rested her back against a thick tree trunk and sat cross-legged staring at the grand sight. Her lids began to droop, showing her tiredness. It had been a long day. She had risen before dawn to get something to eat early. Now the consequence was beginning to show.

She couldn't sleep here though. She could be attacked. The aching in her feet had subsided a little and she rose, once again walking towards the white city. She would stop there for the night.

As she walked, the small purse of coins bumped against her leg. She had successfully sold what she had caught in a small market in a far-off village, and had quickly and subtly snatched a few coins from an unsuspecting drunkard. She was not proud of it, but she had only pick-pocketed the people in the taverns who were too drunk to realise their money had been taken until morning, had their money within easy reach and were abusive to the owner or to his wife who would be serving them with more wine and mead. She tried to take as little risk as possible in that line of business.

The great white city was drawing nearer, and the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees. She quickened her pace a little. She had to get there before sundown. She finally managed to reach the gate and slipped past the guards unnoticed. She was good at becoming invisible when she wanted to be.

The streets smelt of animals, people and drink. Some were still milling about in the streets, but many had gone home for their suppers. She continued to walkthrough the streets, the stalls of the market beginning to look bare as the stall-sellers were packing up their produce, wanting to get home as quickly as possible.

After walking through the rapidly thinning crowds, she found an inn sign, with a beautiful sun with curving rays and a soft face, the corners of the mouth tilted upwards a little.

She moved to a secluded corner next to the door, and hastily checked the coins in her leather pouch. She had enough for a room for one night. She tightened the string on the pouch, making the opening grow smaller like a closing mouth.

Hunching over slightly, she walked briskly and noiselessly through the wooden door. She smelled sweat and drink, the sound of laughter, mugs being set on wooden tables and coins clinking met her ears. She walked around the benches towards the innkeeper, who met her eyes with mild surprise, almost asking the question, 'What are you doing in here?' However, before he had a chance to speak, she started the conversation.

'Excuse me sir, what city is this?'

His look of surprise remained in his eyes, but his black bushy eyebrows lowered into a frown.

'Why, this is Camelot, home of King Uther and his son, Prince Arthur. May I help you, young lady?'

Camelot. Uther. The names sounded vaguely familiar, but she could not remember where she had heard them before.

'Yes. I'd like a room for the night please. I'm willing to pay too.'

She unhooked the leather purse from her belt and offered it out to him. He hesitated, wondering whether to take the money or not. He reached out his hand to grab it, it seemed, but pushed her delicate hand back towards her. She looked at him with a question in her eyes.

'I tell you what. You are respectful young girl, and are obviously all alone. I'll give it to you for free, and send my wife up to look after you. How does that sound?'

Gwen's pretty features broke out into a grateful smile.

'Thank you, I'd like that very much.'

He left the bar for a moment, and lead her up some creaky stairs to a small ,but comfortable room. The low, rickety bed had cotton sheets, not the best that money could buy but good quality. The empty wooden washstand stood underneath the window, which was letting in the last golden rays of the day.

'I'll send up my wife to look after you'

He looked at her with ill-disguised curiosity, but his paternal instinct was beginning to show through is cool front of the attentive innkeeper. She gave him another smile before he left her to her thoughts.

She walked into the room and sat on the bed, which creaked under her weight, despite the fact that she was very light. She removed her rough brown cloak, folded it neatly and placed it at the foot of the bed, removed her boots to find that she had worn a small hole into the bottom of one, and went to look out of the window.

Her gaze strayed from the numerous roofs to the thin stretch of green before the pink, red and gold sky filled her eyesight. Then the sun blinded her and she staggered back, her hand blocking the sun. She went over to the bed and sat down again.

At that moment, a kindly woman bustled into the room. She had small brown eyes set in a round, red face, with a pug nose and a large red mouth. She smiled sweetly at Gwen as she began to start clucking at her.

'Hello there dear, my name is Sarah. Oh, look at you, all tired out from your day, and on an empty stomach too. That is just not acceptable. Wait here, love, and I'll get you some warm water and stew. I think one of my daughters has a nightgown that will fit you.'

She started to move out of the room again. Standing in the doorway, she turned back to Gwen.

'Oh, just look at my appalling manners. I haven't even asked you your name.'

'My name is Guinevere, but please call me Gwen.'

'Such a lovely name, too. Now dear, you stay here and I'll be back soon.'

With that, she trotted off down the corridor to fetch Gwen's food and gown.

Gwen turned back to the window and sighed with fast approaching tiredness.


	4. Quattor Secui Extraho iv

Quattor Secui Extraho (iv) 'The Blacksmith'

Gwen wandered through the busy streets of Camelot, her mind drifting away from where she was going as she avoided groups of laughing people, because she didn't know where she was going.

Sarah had talked about nothing in particular as she scrubbed Gwen's dirty body down with a brush and the lukewarm water she had brought up with her. After pulling the nightgown over her head, she ate the meaty stew slowly, savouring every mouthful. Sarah continued to talk while she ate, telling her that she had been born and raised in Camelot, that she had married at a very young age and now had two daughters of her own. Sarah had spoken of the markets, festivals, the people she knew. She also spoke of the castle, where King Uther Pendragon ruled, training his young son Arthur to rule in his stead.

As soon as Gwen's head hit the pillow she had fallen asleep, the last dregs of twilight leaking in through the window. She had risen a while after dawn, quickly dressed and bought some bread and porridge from a mother with several children in tow.

The porridge was thick and slightly burned, and the bread a little stale, but Gwen hardly noticed. She wandered along the roads, the huge, white castle shining in the morning sunlight. She couldn't keep living on the road, she thought heavily. But there was nowhere to go, no one who would take her in, the little voice argued back. This argument repeated itself in her mind, and after a while she still hadn't come up with a solution.

She was still wandering when she heard the sounds of metal on metal, barely audible above the talking of the townspeople. _Clink, clink_, it went, and after some pondering she realised it was the sound of a blacksmith hard at work. Her interest perked up immediately. Gwen had always found the trade of a blacksmith interesting, but she had never had the chance to learn.

She followed the sounds down an alleyway. _Clink, clink, clink,_ the sound became louder, until Gwen found herself staring into a smithy, watching a man hammer a sword straight.

Unaware that he was being watched, he continued to hammer the glowing sword on an anvil. He replaced the sword into the fire in the center of the smithy, and turned to see Gwen standing, watching him intently.

'H-hello. May I help you with anything?'

He was still a little shocked to see Gwen's face gazing at him. She suddenly understood that she had intruded on his work, and a light blush of embarrassment crept up onto her cheekbones.'

'Please forgive me sir! I did not mean to intrude, I just... Well, I heard you making the sword and I...'

She gestured to the sword currently in the flames.

'I followed the sound. I have always had an interest in the blacksmith trade.'

She finished in a hurry. The blacksmith looked upon her with a friendly smile.

'If you are interested in sword-making, maybe I could teach you. What's your name?'

'I'm Gwen, sir'

'I am Tom. I'm not the royal blacksmith, but I do know my trade'

He finished with a smile. Gwen was very happy at the prospect of being able to learn. But the troubling thing was that she hadn't a place to stay. After some slight hesitation, she asked with apprehension

'Would you happen to know a place where I could stay? I'm new here, you see.'

Tom's smile changed into a light frown. Confusion was painted across his face and the frown deepened as what she said finally sunk in.

'What do you mean, child? Where are your mother and father?'

Gwen had been thinking about that question ever since she had woken up on that grey beach. However, she did not know the answer to that question, so she merely said,

'I don't know. I don't know who my parents are.'

Tom's confused expression automatically turned to one of fatherly concern.

'And you've been by yourself all this time?'

Gwen nodded, not trusting her voice not break mid-sentence.

'Then you are free to stay here for as long as you wish. Now, come and sit, and tell me about yourself'

Gwen sat on the wooden stool and Tom continued work on the sword. She told him everything that she knew. How she washed up on the shore with no memory, how she had travelled, and then how the riders in black had killed the sorcerer that took her in. Tom grimaced and looked fearful the first time she mentioned that he used magic. He quickly explained that in Camelot, magic had been banished by the king on pain of death. Gwen recalled these words from some long passed time. She finished with how she had seen Camelot rising up from the distance. Tom smiled as she asked about his life. He told her of how his wonderful wife had passed a few years ago in midwinter. Gwen gave him his condolences, which he accepted. He told her of his only child, Elyan, that he was kind and compassionate. Gwen was further convinced of this when a young boy a little older than her walked into the smithy, and greeted her warmly.

Tom watched over her, as the days turned to weeks, turning into months and then finally, years. He watched her grow up with Elyan from the curious 8 year old slowly into womanhood, to the tender age of 16. Over that time, she learnt all he could teach how of the blacksmith's trade.

What he taught her was not the only changed feature of her. Her beauty had increased tenfold and her personality had become modest, as her days were filled with the work of the smithy. She was devastated when she heard the raised voices between Elyan and Tom.

Then one day, Elyan was simply gone. She worried for him, and when no word came from him for months, she learned to try to forget. By this age, Tom began to grow concerned. He knew that it would be frowned upon if Gwen continued to work in the forge, and so he managed to find her a job as the handmaiden to the Lady Morgana, much to the heated words between them when he finally announced her change of job.

Over the next year, she learned to be a hardworking handmaiden, who found a friend in her mistress. She became acquainted with Merlin, the manservant of Prince Arthur, and the Prince himself. Then times changed. Tom was killed by the wrath of Uther. Morgana betrayed them. Elyan was knighted. And she gave up her heart to the prince of Camelot. But then all that changed.

And eventually, she forgot the mystery of who she was. She forgot the grey beach, the old sorcerer, her past way of living.

She forgot everything.


	5. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: 'On Pain Of Death'

Gwen took one last look at the home she had always had, stripped bare of possessions and memories which she had blacked out. The thought that she would never see her beloved home again threatened to spill tears from her already red eyes. Blinking them back and quickly inhaling, she closed the old wooden door with an audible click, and went to the cart stationed outside the hut.

Movement to her left caught her eye, and she turned to find Merlin sitting, waiting for her. He didn't say anything. He just stood there, watching her. He told her he was sorry with his eyes, and Gwen truly understood and forgave him. She realised there was nothing he could've done.

Anyway, it was not his fault. The fault was her own. If she hadn't kissed Lancelot... No, she wouldn't think about that now. It was too soon, the wounds too fresh and gaping.

They gave each other one last look of farewell, and she took the cart, slowly dragging it along. Her purple cloak whipped about her in the early morning wind, and as she walked through the streets of Camelot, her mind was filled of the memories that she had had here. With Tom, with Elyan.

Elyan. The name brought utter despair into her heart. Gwen had thought that Elyan would protect her and stand by her, but he had just looked at her with contempt. Only once did he have an apologetic look on his face, but that was more a look of angry pity than a true apology. Everyone that she had known, that she thought would stand up for her, had turned away from her and left her in the dark. Even Arthur, who she thought would have been understanding once she had explained herself to him, had looked at her with such hatred, in that moment he had made Morgana look courteous. Morgana. Morgana had now been completely consumed by bitterness, Gwen doubted there was any part of her soul left that was still good. She had left her too, as well as Arthur and Elyan. If only Tom was here...

Tom. The thought of Tom made the tears that had swelled in her eyes finally tip over. She had never fully healed from the wound of Tom's untimely death. Whenever she had thought of him, his loving smile, his generous personality and hearty laugh, the great gash straight down the middle of her heart started to bleed a little more. Everyone that she knew had left her. Gwen felt so utterly lost, so utterly helpless. She hated this feeling which had begun to churn in her gut. Where would she go?, the question floated through her head again. Camelot was her home, she had no other. It was being ripped away from her so cruelly, but she realised she only had herself to blame.

She had finally reached the gets of Camelot, turned to look at it one last time. It was just how she had always seen it. The glow as the rising sun hit the white stone, the odd candle still lit in one of the windows. Gwen sighed, a deep heavy sigh. She knew that this moment was one to be remembered, the last of its kind. Today would've been my wedding day, she thought with such longing. But she realised that wishing for it would not bring it to her. She squared her shoulders, and without another look behind her, she started to walk again. She feared that if she turned back, she would run up to the castle and throw herself into Arthur's arms, begging and pleading for forgiveness.

As she went, Merlin watched her. His heart was filled with such sadness that the Once and Future Queen had been banished by her husband-to-be. But he realised there was nothing he could do. No way to get Arthur to change his mind. His sadness deepened as he thought that he would probably never see her again. Then his sadness changed to worry, and fear for her. Where would she go? What would she do? What if something terrible happened to her? There would be no-one to help her. With that, Merlin ran all the way back to the castle, running through Gaius's chambers to his room, where he quickly took his spell book from underneath the floorboard, and quickly flicked through its pages.

'Merlin, what are you doing?'

Gaius rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, clearly disturbed from the loudness of Merlin rummaging in his room.

'She's gone, Gaius. Anything could happen to her. If she dies, Arthur will blame himself and he might not fulfil his destiny.'

Merlin hurriedly explained. He had seen the spell somewhere in here, but which page...

'So, what are you doing?'

Gaius asked again, as Merlin found the right page.

'Found it! It's a protection spell Gaius. If I do it correctly, Gwen should not fall into any serious danger.'

All of Merlin's attention was now focused on the spell, and Gaius peered over his shoulder. Gaius recognised the spell, and an instant flash of worry flew through him.

'Merlin this sort of spell is extremely powerful. If it goes wrong, you or Gwen or even both of you could die.'

'I know Gaius, but I'm not going to leave Gwen to her fate out there. And anyway, it says here, "If the spell is performed by two or more sorcerers, the risk of a mistake in its casting will be significantly lower" '

Gaius still felt uneasy about the spell. His mind began to picture what would happen if it went wrong. But, Gwen was like a daughter to him, and Merlin felt so strongly about this, that he found himself saying

'Alright Merlin, what do we need to say?'

Merlin gave Gaius a look of thanks, while he spoke.

'The spell is this:'

_'Ddaear Fawr, Ceidwad yr Awyr,_

_Gwyliwch dros Gwenhwyfar,_

_Gosod hi yn eich llygaid'_

'According to this, we have to repeat it till we feel the spell take hold, whatever that means.'

Merlin's puzzled look made Gaius smile a little. He was like a father, watching his son grow up so fast. Merlin held the book between them, and began to mumble under his breath. Gaius started to do the same.

_' Ddaear Fawr, Ceidwad yr Awyr...'_

_' Dros Gwenhwyfar,_

_Gosod hi yn...'_

_' Hi yn eich llygaid'_

_'Ddaear, Fawr...'_

They continued like this for the next few minutes. Merlin was beginning to lose hope that the spell would take effect, but just as he was about to stop, he felt a strange warmth build up in his blood, and he thought he heard a faint whisper,

_'Thank you, Merlin'_

He stopped abruptly. He turned to Gaius with a question on his face, to be met with the same expression.

'Did you hear it too?'

Gaius nodded. Yes.

'It seems the spell has taken hold Merlin. Gwen should not come to harm now.'

Arthur watched as the decorations for his wedding were taken down. Guinevere. It hurt just to think her name. He couldn't cope with the memories of his beautiful bride-to-be, her sweet smile, her affectionate laughter, the way her lips felt against his...

'Sire?'

He looked around at Merlin, who was watching him. His face filled with sympathy, as he empathized with Arthur.

'It's not too late, sire.'

The meaning of his words hadn't fully sunk in when Merlin spoke again.

'I know what Gwen did was desperately wrong, but she is a good person, I truly believe that.'

Talking with Merlin about it actually helped to ease the fury which had filled him last night, when he had found her...

'As do I Merlin. But that's not the problem. I love Gwen with all my heart, and I'm sure in time I'll find a way to forgive her. But I'll never trust her. I cannot live like that. Not as a king and certainly not as a husband. And though it pains me, it's best that she's gone.'

And he meant it. Despite the fact that he would hardly ever confide in anyone about his feelings. He felt better for it. Not that he would tell Merlin that.


	6. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: 'Howling with the Wolves'

Ealdor. She had decided to set out for there, as Hunith would welcome her back with open arms and would not look at her with anger, hatred or scorn. The cart was growing heavy as Gwen tired from pulling it down a the dusty road. Small beads of sweat started to stand out just below her hairline, and her breathing was becoming laboured. The sun was high in a cloudless sky, and was beating down on her back. Her mind began to drift back to her forbidden home.

_What was everyone doing back in Camelot? Were Merlin, Gaius, Elyan, the knights thinking of her? Was Arthur..._

She couldn't bear to think of him right now. The thought of him made her heart split at the seams. To think that she could have been married to her love by now... Then Gwen thought of last night. The way he had looked at her. The way he had shouted a her. The way he had even shook her. Arthur had certainly frightened her in that moment, she wanted the floor to swallow her up. She even had almost wanted him to sentence her to death at one point so that she didn't have to live without him, but only for a moment.

Her melancholia and desperation turned to bitter anger. She had always been there for him, comforted him, forgiven him for the wrong-doings he had done towards her, and there was more than one. Yet the one time when she had fallen, when she had slipped, he had looked at her with contempt. He expected her to be perfect, when she wasn't.

He was so ungrateful, so unfeeling towards her, that for a short time she wondered why she had ever fallen in love with him. He had treated her badly and thrown her aside like trash, and he claimed that he _loved _her. What kind of man would do that to their love?

She threw curses at her memories of him and her fiery anger only grew as she thought of him. Without focusing on which way she should be going, she continued down the path.

The sun had dipped a little in the sky, throwing a small shadow to her right and giving her more shade from the trees. Then, she heard it. Behind her. Whether far off in the distance, or somewhere close by, she did not know. Her thought and curses stopped immediately as she heard the howling of wolves.

She began to panic slightly as she pulled the cart hurriedly. What would she do now? There were no villages or towns in this area. She wouldn't make it back to Camelot, and she couldn't go there now. The howls were moving closer to her, and her panic grew.

Underneath the sound of her heart beating in her ears and her rapid breathing, she heard the faint tinkling of water. There must be a river nearby. A light flicker of hope returned to her. Wolves would not swim across to catch their prey. If she made it across the river, then she would be safe.

She dragged the cart as fast as she could. It's weight had seemed to magnify since she had thought of Arthur. Another howl sounded nearer than before, and she quickly let go of the cart and broke into a run. She followed the sound of the water, as it grew louder. She started to slow, but sheer panic kept her running on. She thought she saw the distant glimmer of the sun shining on the water. As she ran, she thought she saw something else. More blue, so crystal blue, with the creaking of wood on water echoing in her ears, like ships gently floating on water. She heard someone call her name, like someone shouting it from far off on the horizon.

_Guinevere..._

The strange memory (or was it a dream?) was cast into the recesses of her mind as she plunged into the water of the river, wading her way across to the other side. It took a while as she struggled to get her footing on the slippery rocks in the riverbed, and the water tried to carry her downstream, but she reached the other side, out of breath and dripping onto the riverbank.

She turned to look behind her, to be met with a pair of icy blue eyes on the riverbank she had just run from; the eyes of a wolf. She continued to stare into those eyes, captivated by their cold beauty.

She turned her gaze from the eyes to see about five or six other wolves running along the riverbank around the wolf, giving low howls and moving back and forth, trying to find a way across which does not involve water.

After turning back the wolf, meeting its eyes again, it gave one last low, whining cry and turned, running back into the trees just beyond the bank. The rest of the pack followed it, leaving Gwen alone once more.

She let out a breath which she didn't even realise she had been holding, and picked herself up, walking deep into the woods. She couldn't go back to the cart, in case the wolves cam back again. All her possessions, all her clothes... They were now gone. She walked sullenly, and was once again removed from her thoughts by a sound. She started in fear, thinking it was the wolves again, but it was not a howl. It was the sound of horses' hooves.

This did little to lay her fears at rest; wolves were not the only thing to fear in the wild. Bandits, raiders, slave traders, the list could go on. And all would look upon a young woman travelling by herself with no possessions as an excellent opportunity. She turned and ran like the wind. The sound drew nearer, but there was no river to save her now. She continued to run, but she turned her head to see a huge man dressed in black sitting on top of a grey horse.

She thought she heard screams, but they were like no screams she had ever heard before. The sound of death, the smell of burning flesh filling her nose, the way she thought she saw burning houses in the trees, and the pounding hooves drawing closer and closer. It was all to much. She felt a heavy knock on her head. Pain filled her brain, and she blacked out.

When she finally came to, she heard the grating voices of men, the rhythmic thuds of horses galloping, and the warmth of the horse beneath her. She tensed, realising that she was draped across a horse, with a man riding it.

'What shall we do with our pretty little prize here?'

The man's voice rasped out. She heard the other one give a low chuckle before he replied.

'We shall have our way with her, then we shall think of what to do.'

Involuntarily, she started to tremble. She tried to stop, hoping that the man would not feel it, but luck was not on her side.

'Hey, it seems our prize has woken up. Shall we do it now, Demeterous?'

'Once we reach our camp, Madras. That's the way it works. As for you, wench, you can walk behind the horse or get dragged along, your choice.'

He finished with a sinister grin as he pulled a now-fully-conscious Gwen to the ground. She tried to fight back, kicking him in the shins and trying to break her arm free of his tight grasp, but he pressed a dagger to her cheek.

'Try that one again, and you get to sample the delights on a sharp blade on your face'

He tied her to the horse, binding her wrists so roughly that the rope cut into the skin of her wrists. With a small kick in the horse's sides, the horse began to walk, with Gwen being pulled along behind. She was more scared than she had ever been before. But as she walked, she thought of the strange visions which had melded into her surroundings when she ran. The sparkling of water, the ships, and someone calling her name.

Then the burning huts, the screams of people and stench of burning meat. What did it all mean?

Dark had long since fallen by the time the horse stopped. Gwen, fatigued from her terror and walking all day, began to shake.

'Alright wench, we're here. Remember what I said before about this blade.'

Gwen's terror increase as he paraded her around to about six or seven other men. She knew what would come next as they formed a circle around her. She knew how men got revenge on women.

The first man came from her side, swiftly pulling her to the ground. He pinned her still-bound arms above her head as he started to feel her midriff. _Fight, fight, FIGHT BACK GWEN! _she told herself as she screamed and used her leg to kick the man hard in the groin. He yelled in pain and she turned, trying to start crawling away from the men. Jeers came from all around her.

'Where do you think you're going?'

'Not so fast wench!'

'Oh, no you don't!'

The man who she had kicked had managed to grab hold of her ankle, and pulled her towards him. He sat on her midriff this time, pinning her arms with his knees and manoeuvred so that her legs wouldn't be able to hit him again.

'Now I got you.'

He started to unfasten her cloak when a large grey blur knocked him clean off her. She looked up, to see those mesmerising eyes of the wolf looking back at her, before they turned to the bandit it had knocked off her. With a low growl, it went for the man.

His cries sounded in Gwen's ears as she desperately pulled herself along the ground with her elbows.

More vicious snarls and the occasional cry of an injured wolf could be heard filling the night, but the loudest sound was the death-cries of men as they were attacked by the wolf pack.

Within a few minutes some of the men had been torn to pieces by the wolves, and one or two of the wolves lay dead amongst the men. Gwen was filled with a hopeful determination that she would get away before they could go for her again. A corpse of a bandit lay in front of her, his sword still in her hand. She wriggled to the sword, and cut her bonds on his blade. Without a look at the camp, she got to her shaking legs and scurried off into the night.

Arthur was sitting at his desk, not paying attention to the scrolls and papers lying open before him. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't concentrate. He could only think of Guinevere. His mind flurried with question like _Where is she? Is she alright? What if something has happened to her? Is she safe?_

Questions he couldn't answer. He could only hope that she was safe. The door of his chambers opened, and Merlin entered without his permission. But he didn't really care. He didn't even look at him when she stood in from of the desk.

'Sire, are you alright?'

'Of course I am Merlin.'

Merlin's look of concern turned to one of annoyance at his stubbornness of pride

'You're obviously not.'

At this Arthur's head did snap up and met Merlin's eyes coolly.

'I do not need you to tell me if I'm alright or not Merlin. Just, leave me in peace.

'Sire...'

'That will be all Merlin'

That was it. The conversation was over. Turning on his heel, Merlin walked out of Arthur's chambers, leaving Arthur alone. She was all Arthur could think of; _Guinevere..._


	7. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: 'Shaken'

Gwen awoke underneath a canopy of green. She sat up, slightly confused. She couldn't remember how she had got there. Then it all came flooding back. Her banishment, the wolves, her capture and finally how she run into the forest...

Gwen began to sob quietly. She was so afraid, afraid that she would not be so lucky next time, that the bandits or wolves were still following her. As all her tears ran down her face, her stomach grumbled loudly. When was the last time she ate?

Leaning on the tree next to her for support, she staggered to her feet and started walking in the direction the wind was blowing. Despite the fact that she had only just woken up, her eyes felt like they had sand in them and her eyelids were heavy. As she walked, not really sure of her direction, she thought of what she had seen yesterday.

Why had she heard, saw, smelt things that weren't there? Was she going insane, or was there something deeper to it? They hadn't seemed like illusions. Illusions could change her hearing or sense of smell. They had felt more like memories, some long forgotten time that she had pushed to the dark back of her mind.

The wolves not attacking her last night she could easily explain away. The wolves didn't attack her because the bandits, unsuspecting and attention diverted, would be easier prey for them. And besides, there was plenty for all of them.

But it was a little harder to explain why the wolf with the ice eyes had looked at her and not attacked her too. She would've been at its mercy if it had come for her. But instead, it had gone for the bandits who was trying to...

Some more tears slipped down he cheeks. It was close last night. Too close for comfort. The thought of what could have happened to her if the wolves had not followed her scent did not bear thinking about. Her virginity had almost been ripped away from her in that time. She could have been growing some unwanted bastard child in her womb by this time if she had not been saved.

That last thought brought her back to the matter of the wolves. It could've been plain luck that they were there in that point in time, but it felt as if there was something more. Something deeper.

A dull headache had begun to throb in her temples as she walked on. She was parched, famished, in need of rest and in a part of the forest which she did not recognise. She felt as if she had walked the earth for a thousand years. If she hadn't been alone, if she was with Arthur...

She grudgingly admitted to herself that she should be thankful to Arthur in a way for not having her executed, but after what had happened last night, she found that she could not be thankful. She found herself thinking, _It's Arthur's fault I'm here. It's his fault that I was attacked. It's his fault, it's his fault..._

She gave a weary sigh. She was tired of thinking about him, her friends back in Camelot. It would not help her to think about them, her heart cracked a little more each time her mind drifted to them. No, it was time to move on. They couldn't help her now.

She came to a part of forest which she did recognise. She was almost at the border. If she continued north, she would be past the it by tomorrow. In the mean time, she would find some food and water…

Arthur was sitting in the throne room, working through the pile of papers with a guard standing either side of him. It had been a few days since Elyan had attacked him in his chambers, and was now nowhere to be found. It was so silent in the throne room. So silent that his mind began to fill wit those damned questions about her again.

_No, don't think about it, focus on the scrolls…_

But, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. He just couldn't. He let out an inaudible sigh, and put his quill down for a moment. He didn't understand Elyan. He didn't come to him when he banished Guinevere, but now that she was gone forever, he had turned on him. He didn't understand at all. He let out another sigh. There was a crash of falling metal. He turned abruptly to see one of the guards collapsed on the floor. The sound was repeated, and the other guard had collapsed too. He stood up and drew his sword. Elyan moved out of the shadows, a crossbow in his hands, aimed at him. Arthur dodged just as Elyan let the arrow loose. As he began to battle Elyan, he pushed Guinevere to the back of his mind…for now.


	8. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: 'I Continue On'

Gwen stood just before the little stream that marked the borders of Camelot and Essetir. She almost hesitated before crossing, not sure that she wanted to

_Don't be silly Gwen_, a little voice chided her. _You have to now._

She had managed to find food and water yesterday, passing through a little village which had not yet heard the news of her banishment. A few coppers had paid for some stale bread and she had drank her fill at the well. in the center of the village. Then she had slept under the stars.

_Almost like when I was…_

Her sad smile became a frown. What was happening to her? She had had those visions a few days ago, when she was running. But they had started to enter her dreams too.

She had been dreaming about what she had seen in the woods, the sound of screams and the thundering of hooves hammering in her ears, the putrid stench of the burning bodies, only this time it wasn't half-crossed with a blurry vision of trees. It was all in her dream, the details exact down to the way the doors were swinging open.

She had woken with a jolt last night, terrified that the bandits, or what was left of them anyway, had found her again, or the wolves had followed her scent again. She'd scrambled to the nearest tree, gasping for air and trying to control her shaking.

It was strange that she had never had any of these visions, dreams, memories, whatever they were, whilst she was in Camelot. The nightmares and visions had only started when she was in danger, fleeing for her life from man and beast. She didn't know what to call them, where they had come from, or why they had started so suddenly. It just made her head spin when she tried to figure out the puzzle.

She lowered her foot, snapping a twig. A she instantly darted her gaze to her foot, then to the trees around her. She had become more alert, though some would say jumpy, since the attack, she kept her eyes peeled for any sign of danger and trouble, and avoided it as best she could. If another misadventure were to happen like the last one, the chances of her surviving unscathed like last time were very slim.

A valley stretched out in front of her, the green bluffs dotted with colour from the wildflowers, the sweet aroma carried on the breeze faintly filling her nostrils. Looking down on the valley, she saw the small cottages and homes of the people of Ealdor, distant wisps of smoke form hearths being carried down the valley by the breeze.

She set off once again, and found her thoughts, once again, turning to Arthur. She felt annoyed with herself. _Forget him Gwen, _the little voice told her, _he was bad to you. You have to move on._

But how could she move on? She loved him for as long as she could remember. He had always been there. She tried to distract herself from her wandering memories of him, but it didn't work. She thought back to how it all began; when she was hiding Sir William of Deira.

'One more match,' he had said as she watched him pull on his cloak, 'and the tournament will be over.'

'You can go back to being Prince Arthur.'

Gwen's voice echoed inside her head as she walked carefully down a little rocky path to the village.

'Um…I thought you might wear it, for luck.'

She offered him a plain white strip of cloth, which he took from her tiny hands.

'Thank you'

He gave her a half-smile as she thanked her, running the cloth through his fingers.

She looked up at him with a smile, as he stared lovingly down at her. She was taken a little by surprise when he had leant down and kissed her. However, his lips where soft, there was nothing harsh or possessive about the kiss and she had started to develop feelings for him over the months.

She wanted that kiss to last forever, and was kind of disappointed it had ended so soon. He leant back as he thought about what he had just done, biting his lip as he considered the problems this would now cause. She had simply looked at him, wondering what his reaction would be now, wanting to apologise for putting him in such a horrible predicament. With a last look at her, he hurriedly whispered

'I must go.'

With that, her pulled the hood on his cloak over his head and left the house. Gwen had simply stood and savoured the feeling of the tingling in her lips. Now that he had kissed her like that, she knew he felt the same way about her. It was a thing never to forget.

Her smile was on her face again as she recalled it, reaching the bottom of the path and making her way across the fields. It was the first thought she had of him that she didn't find painful since leaving Camelot.

Arthur was lying in bed, unable to sleep. She wouldn't leave his thoughts, and once again those infernal questions were flying around his mind. He thought of how it had started for him, the blossoming friendship, and romance, of when he had first met Guinevere.

He was walking through the woods on the outskirt of Camelot, thankful to get a moment away from the guards. He sighed deeply. He lived in a world of great luxury, but still he wanted more freedom. He wanted no-one to bow to him and lower their eyes when he addressed them. To have no-one say that he couldn't do this or he couldn't see them. To be treated normally.

He was lost in this longing when he heard a soft humming from the other side of the huge tree. He froze. The humming didn't sound as if it came from a woman, but a young girl.

Moving slowly, he made sure not to snap any branches or make any noise as he went to the source of the humming. Then he saw her. She was sitting with her back to the rough bark, legs crossed, her head tilted slightly backward and her eyes closed. He had never seen her before. She looked a little younger than he was, and she was very pretty.

He simply stood watching her. He didn't know the song she was singing, but when she hummed it, it sounded like an ethereal lullaby. He gazed at her face. She looked so peaceful. So relaxed. He only wished that he might be able to find such serenity one day.

She didn't open her eyes until he accidently snapped a twig underfoot which he had not seen. Her huge hazel eyes had darted to him and she moved backwards as fast as she could. He immediately started to talk to her.

'Don't worry. I won't hurt you.'

He moved very slowly towards her, shushing and calming her. She stopped moving backwards, but she still eyed him with suspicion.

'Who are you?'

He asked her but she didn't reply immediately. She seemed to be contemplating if she could run fast enough away, or if she should stay with this mysterious boy who she had never met before. Eventually, she merely replied with

'Who are you?'

'You didn't answer my question.'

'You're not answering mine.'

He gave her a smile. He liked this girl, even though she didn't know her name.

'I'm…'

He hesitated before telling her his name. He didn't want this girl to run off and leave him all alone, or curtsy and not speak to him. In the end, he decided to take a leap of faith and tell the truth.

'I'm Arthur. Now will you tell me you name?'

He decided to leave out the title, but the young girl's eyes grew even wider, if that was possible, as she realised who he was.

'Y-you're the prince of Camelot?'

He nodded. Thinking he had made the wrong choice by telling her his real name, he was more than slightly surprised when she did not run away, or lower her eyes and remain silent, but remained seated and gave him a little bow instead of a curtsy, and looked him in the eyes as she spoke

'Forgive me if I don't curtsy sire, but I can't do it very well on this ground.'

'Please call me Arthur.'

At this last statement, his liking of the girl grew. She moved back to where she had originally been seated, in the crook of gnarled tree roots, and he sat next to her.

'You still haven't told me your name.'

'Guinevere.'

Guinevere. He liked the name. He thought that it suited her very well; small and beautiful, but a little untamed.

'How come I've never seen you in Camelot before?'

He didn't want to bombard her with questions, but that one had begun to implant itself in his mind since he sat down.

'I wouldn't think you would meet a lot of children from the lower town sire. Arthur.'

She corrected herself as she picked at some small flowers in the grass next to her.

'I guess you're right about that. But I have seen them before. You have never been among them.'

He gave a smile of self pity. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to play with them in their games, but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed. He had tried to once, but his father had quickly put an end to that.

'I'm new here.'

She left it at that, and he didn't want to pry. He didn't want to lose the only chance he had at conversation where the limitations of his title could not touch them.

They sat in silence for a while, until he guard the sound of someone coming closer.

'Wait. Listen.'

Her head turned to him. He looked back at her apologetically.

'I'm sorry. They must have found me. I guess I'll have to go back with them'

'You don't want to?'

Arthur shook his head. Meanwhile, the sounds of men shouting were growing louder. She stood up, and offered her hand out to him.

'How well can you climb?'

She gestured to the tree they had been sitting against. He understood and got a firm grip on the rough bark. It dug into his hands, but that helped him to get a better hold and pulled himself up. He found a little hand reaching down to him from the thick branch above him. He hadn't even noticed her climb up. He took it and she pulled him up while trying to stay balanced on the barge branch. The had just managed to hide themselves in the sea of green when some of the knights came past the tree.

'He's not here sir'

Arthur and Guinevere looked at each other, not daring even to breath lest it give their position away.

'Very well. Continue the search.'

The knights moved off in the direction they had come. Arthur and Guinevere let out their breath at the same time; the danger was over.

'Why don't you want to go back Arthur?'

He looked at her, and felt as if she wouldn't judge him. He confided in her about wanting to be normal. She let him speak, tilting her head and nodding as if she understood. When he had finished, she finally spoke.

'I understand where you're coming from Arthur. I really do, but you just have to face the fact that you can never be normal. There is no such thing as normal, because we are all different from each other. The other children you see lead completely separate lives, even if they are together. Just because you are the prince does not mean you have to be cut off from it all. Appreciate what you have and try to understand.'

She finished with a light jump from the branch onto the ground, and with another little bow, she turned and ran fast through the woods. He didn't go after her, but sat in the tree and thought about what she had said.

After a while, he jumped down from the tree also and strolled briskly back in the direction of Camelot, feeling like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

With that last thought, Arthur fell into sleep.


	9. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: 'A Warm Welcome and a Black Heart'

'Gwen!'

Hunith's voice was a welcome sound in Gwen's ears. She walked eagerly to her, and gave her a warm embrace. It was the embrace that caused some tears to wet Hunith's shoulder.

'Why, what's the matter'

Gwen was unable to answer. Hunith, realising that something was seriously wrong, led her inside and sat her down on a stool. Hunith sat down on the one opposite her.

'Now Gwen, tell me what's happened.'

Gwen told her everything. How she kissed Lancelot and how she had been banished by Arthur, the wolves and bandits, at which point tears were streaming down her cheeks, and the strange visions that she had seen while running. Hunith didn't interrupt her, but let her spill her sorrows. When she had finished, Hunith's eyes looked watery as she spoke.

'How much you have gone through. You are tired, and are in need of rest. I will give you the spare bed, and get you something to eat. We will resolve the matter of these dreams tomorrow, when you have more strength.'

Gwen was in no position to argue as Hunith set about cooking a strange oat porridge, and pinned a curtain between two walls, to act as a barrier. Then she served a bowl of porridge to Gwen, who ate it as she lay a wooden frame alongside one of the walls, and fitted it with a straw mattress.

Twilight was beginning to show through the open door, and Gwen lay down on the mattress. Hunith tucked some rough blankets around her, like a child and her mother. After muttering her goodnights, Gwen promptly fell into sleep.

It was black. Everything was black. Gwen felt like she was falling through the blackness inside her dream. She hit water with a loud splash, and frantically tried to swim back towards the surface.

The water was so cold that for a moment she couldn't even think. She swam as best she could to the surface, but was constantly being pulled under by some unseen force. Gasping for air, waves rolled around her, making her splutter and kick her feet to stay above them.

Lightning cracked the sky, and in the sudden flash she saw what could only be the mast of a huge ship, with blacked out shadows running between the sails and on the decks. She was plunged into blackness as the light diminished again, and could barely hear the shout of _'Man overboard!' _as water filled her ears again.

The ship was sailing away from her now. She tried to call out, to tell them to wait, to stop, to help her. But the salty water filled her mouth as she opened it, some of it slipping down her throat.

The last thing she could hear before sinking back under the waves of the storm was a man crying her name. _'Guinevere! Hold on Gwen! Hold on…!'_

The blackness took her again, but she could still hear her name.

'Gwen. Gwen. Gwen!'

She awoke to find Hunith, gently shaking her shoulder and looking deeply concerned.

'H-Hunith!'

Gwen gasped. She was drenched in sweat and shivering, despite the fact that she was burning up.

'Gwen, you were screaming in your sleep. Are you alright?'

'Yes. Yes, I'm fine'

She clearly wasn't, but she didn't want to worry Hunith. Besides, she figured, it was just a dream and all over now. She would be fine in a little while.

'I'll get you some water to wash, and in the meantime, you sip this warm milk.'

Hunith started to get to work around her as Gwen sat by the dwindling fire and sipping her milk. It was just a dream, it was just a dream, she kept telling herself. The more time she spent awake, the more she felt better. After sitting there for some time, she began to hear birdsong and the vast blackness outside had started to turn blue.

'It's getting light out.'

Hunith turned towards the window, gazing out of it for a moment before turning to continue her work. She was now getting the sheets, still soaking wet from Gwen's nightmare.

'Do you want to tell me what you dreamt?'

Hunith's look of worry told Gwen that she thought she had been dreaming about her encounters with the wolves and the bandits. Deciding that it was easier left that way, she remained silent. Hunith got the hidden message in the silence, came and sat down by Gwen next to the glowing embers in the hearth. Slowly pulling her towards her, she hugged her in a motherly embrace.

The emotions that Gwen had kept bottled up since leaving Camelot flowed freely and she started to sob into Hunith's warm chest and collarbone.

Agravaine was pacing his chambers. He still hadn't managed to get the item Morgana was after to her. That old fool Gaius and that troublesome idiot-manservant of Arthur's were onto him, and making him sneaking out undetected a lot harder. Arthur was easier to fool.

Before coming to Camelot to 'aid' his young nephew, Morgana had met with him, and he had joined her cause. He had hated Uther with a passion, he had caused his beloved sister Igraine to die. Arthur was as much to blame as Uther for Igraine's death. If Arthur had died, Igraine might still be alive.

Then Uther had murdered his brother, Tristan du Bois, and slept with his other sister, Vivian. He was the only one left out of the four siblings, and Uther had taken them all away. Morgana was the daughter of his sister Vivian, and would help her get the throne no matter how long it took.

His thoughts diverted back to the item again. He began to root around in his head, trying to scheme and plot how to get them to Morgana, and to replace them without Arthur knowing they were gone in the first place. Nothing came to him. He thought about it more, and still his mind was blank.

His frustration was growing steadily. He needed to get them to her. But how could he do it? The thought popped into his head as soon as he thought of the annoying and ever-present Merlin. Make sure that HE doesn't know about it too.

A small smile played on his thin lips. Yes, it was all falling into place. He pulled his boots onto his feet and wrapped his blue cloak around himself. He wouldn't need to find Morgana, Morgana would find him. She always knew when he needed to speak with her.

He checked behind him to make sure that no-one, or particularly Merlin, was following him. He walked with purpose. He now knew what he needed to do.


	10. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: 'Ealdor'

Gwen was working in the fields, full of yellow corn, tending to the crops. She leant on her rake and sighed. It had been a week since that night, and she had had the same dream every night, and every night she had had Hunith wake her up, a frown creasing her weathered features, covered in sweat and shaking like a leaf in a breeze.

She hadn't told Hunith her dream yet, but if she had another night like this, then she guessed she would have to. The only thing that gave her comfort was being busy, and working in the fields seemed to solve that problem. It stopped her thinking about everything.

What were these dreams? She figured that they couldn't be **just** dreams if they kept appearing every night. They were almost like…long forgotten memories, thought Gwen, like something she was rediscovering after forgetting about it for a long time.

Gwen shook her head. How was that even possible? She had never seen the sea, let alone been on a ship and got caught in a storm.

She… wait. She could almost remember something. The softness of sand against her face. And grey. There was a lot of grey. She tried to think more about it, but a headache started in her temples the more she thought, and quickly moved away from that topic.

Her mind didn't go to Arthur, but to Lancelot. She had avoided thinking of him since it had happened. It was just a still image of him standing in front of her, not of them kissing. But the more it stuck in her head, the more she thought that there was something wrong about it all.

Her long-dead feelings came rushing back for him for no reason at all. Not once had she thought about him like that during the year when she had looked after the late king, and he had been one of Arthur's knights. But those few days before her wedding, she had barely been able to reign in her feelings.

At some points, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him, hug him and have him tell her that she was his. She had almost forgotten her engagement to Arthur when he was in the room.

Then, as quickly as the feeling would come to her, they would stop again. There was something so wrong about it all, looking back. But the details started to slip away as she tried to focus on the image more.

She rubbed her forehead, and focused on the work to be done again.

'Gwen. Gwen! Gwen!'

She woke still screaming, sweat trickling down her forehead, her heart pounding in her ears.

'Gwen, it was just a dream, just a dream.'

Her shaking hand wiped some of the sweat from her head, and tears started to fall down the trails the sweat had made.

'That's the problem Hunith. I'm not sure what they are.'

She cried steadily. Was this how Morgana felt when she had her nightmares? Now she knew why she woke up screaming and crying, desperate for Gwen to be with her.

'What do you mean Gwen?'

Gwen was still shaking as Hunith pushed back dripping strands from her eyes.

'What happens in these dreams Gwen. Tell me.'

'It's completely black, and I'm falling…'

Gwen started in a whisper, but as she regained some of her strength and comfort, her voice grew steadier and slightly louder. As she finished, Hunith, who had been patiently listening to her dream, shook her head a little, as if trying to figure out what to say to Gwen

'Well…'

She trailed of and thought some more. Gwen thought she wasn't going to say anything more, but she started again

'Gwen, if these dreams are recurring like this, there may be a chance that these are not dreams at all'

Gwen was not expecting that answer. What else could they be? Gwen asked her this, to which she replied

'They may, in fact, be memories. What's the earliest thing you can remember?'

She immediately fell silent. The first memory was of her meeting Arthur in the forest, and how they had his in the tree. She had told no-one of their meeting, as it would be frowned upon, but she relayed this information to Hunith, who nodded.

'And how old were you when you met him?'

Gwen had to think about that for a moment. She hadn't thought of that memory for years. Looking back, she couldn't have been over ten.

'I don't know, about eight or nine.'

Hunith nodded for fervently.

'Can you not remember anything before that point?'

'No, not really'

'That might be your answer. People's earliest memories are usually of when the person is three or four. Some people can remember even before then. If you can only remember after you are eight, you may have suffered some memory loss.'

'Memory loss?'

Gwen felt choked. It was all happening so fast.

'Can you tell how old you are in the dream?'

'Hmmm?…Oh, it's obviously before that memory, but I was small, so perhaps…about six or seven.'

Hunith seemed to think this made sense. It was all slipping into place for her. It was an entirely different matter for Gwen.

'Then there's a very large possibility that that's a memory you can't remember due to memory loss.'

'Do you truly believe that it's a memory Hunith?'

Hunith thought about it for a moment, and nodded her head once. Gwen looked out of the window, the cool night air caressing her face. Turning back to Hunith, she sighed

'If it is, then something must have caused the memory loss, right?'

Hunith nodded again

'Then, I'll try to find out what.'

Hunith seemed to think this was a good idea.

'People and places can help to bring memories back Gwen. Do you want to go?

'I do.'

It was the first time that Arthur had broken down like this. His sobs racked his body as he sat on the floor, his knees drawn up to his shoulders like a child. He didn't bother to wipe the tears away. All he wanted was to have her back in his arms again, to lean down and kiss her, to tell her that he would never let her go again.

He had started to blame himself for Guinevere kissing Lancelot. If he had been better to her, shown her more of his never-ending affection for her. He had known her since they were children. She was nothing if not fiercely loyal. If she was feeling neglected, like he didn't love her, only that could have persuaded her to betray him.

He had to admit that he had pushed her away more than once. Yet, she had remained with him through thick and thin. It was strange though, he began to think a little clearer since he had let his feelings overwhelm him.

She had not shown any interest in Lancelot during the time he was a knight. She had only eyes for him, and still it was the night of her wedding to him that she had decided to kiss him.

_But what if it wasn't the first time, _a mean voice whispered inside of his head_, it was the first time you saw it, but maybe it wasn't the first time they had done it? _

The tiny flickerings of anger and hurt were swallowed by the pain and eternal longing for her skin against his. He was tired of being angry with her. He was tired of feeling like this. He had let his fury fuel his actions that night, and now he was paying the price.

_She can never be with you again, _that little voice was back again. _You banished her never to return on pain of death, remember?_

He was back to that impasse again. He wanted her back, but she could never come back. What did he do now?

The thought of what a dollop head he had been to her made more tears escape his red eyes.

What had he done?

'You have to admit it's odd, Gaius'

Merlin was pacing, wringing his hands, brow furrowed into a frown. Gaius was sitting at the small dining table, arms crossed and watching him

'What do you mean Merlin?'

'Don't you think its a little odd that Lancelot, the real one I mean, swore that he wouldn't come between Gwen and Arthur, and yet that shade split them and went back to the otherworld again? As soon as he had done it?'

'Yes, it is a little odd now that I think of it like that. What are you suggesting Merlin?'

'I don't have any evidence, but I'm thinking that Lancelot's return might have been more than an old reunion. We knew he was a shade, but he wasn't here to harm Arthur.

'Yes Merlin?'

'What if he was here to harm his future wife instead?'


	11. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: 'A Ship, a Storm and a Name'

Liberty. That word flew into her head each time she thought of the dream.

Liberty. Liberty. Liberty.

Why that word instantly popped up when she thought about it was a complete mystery to her. She didn't know what it was supposed to mean.

Dawn was fast approaching over the treetops, and Gwen was packing what meagre supplies she could muster. She didn't have a horse or any money, but some food and a little amount of coppers that Hunith had been able to spare. She and Hunith had figured that going west was the best idea.

Gwen couldn't thank Hunith enough for the many kindnesses she had shown her. After kissing her goodbye, she had watched from the door of her little hut as Gwen had slung she small sack over her shoulder, and had set off into the world to find her past.

She pushed Arthur and Camelot as far away from her current thoughts as possible. It wouldn't help her to think of them, and it was almost like torture when she thought of the biggest mistake of her life, made on the eve of her wedding.

No Gwen, she told herself sternly, focus.

She squared her shoulders and lifted her head high. She would walk away with a clean conscience, and yes, she did regret it. But that didn't mean she had to continue beating herself up about it for the rest of her days.

She walked with a purpose. She had been in a storm and had a vague idea of sand and grey, so she must have washed up somewhere. Therefore, she would start at the coast in the west. Getting there would be another matter entirely.

She had been hunted and attacked just on a few days' journey to Ealdor. It would take weeks to get to the coast. She needed to get a weapon of some sort. But she had no money, and couldn't make such things without money. She had enough food for a few days. That was it.

She didn't want another run-in with trouble of that sort. At least not for a while. She made sure to stick to the edges of the narrow road, where she could easily reach cover if she so required it.

She thought about the dream. And the word was there again. Liberty. What did the word mean? She decided not to riddle out the word, as she was finding it impossible to, but focused on the details of the dream.

It was black when she was falling, and also in the water, so it must have been during the night. The way the waves reared and rolled, with the lightning cracking the sky made it obvious she was in a storm. The mast was huge, she had gathered that much from the quick flashes she had seen of it. It looked like a grand ship, but she had never seen the sea before, so she didn't know much about ships.

Sighing, she thought on. What else had there been?

There was the way she had tried to push herself up on through the water, showing that she wasn't that good a swimmer. She must have been about six or seven, like she had told Hunith. But there this one flash which had sown that she was wearing purple velvet.

Purple velvet? Gwen almost laughed at that. She was not high-born. She couldn't afford velvet.

But there it was, clinging to her arm as she paddled upwards and slightly darkened by the saltwater.

If anything, that last piece of information made gave her a splitting headache. She gave an exasperated sigh, this one more out of annoyance than from tiredness. Whenever she tried to figure out what it meant, she got headaches and couldn't figure out the meaning behind it all. It was so frustrating.

Suddenly, she heard clattering hooves, and something else too. Wheels. Wooden wheels. There must be a horse and cart up ahead.

Deciding not to take the risk that it was or wasn't, she ducked behind and overgrown bush, and peered out to see who it was. She saw a man and a woman each riding a horse, laughing and smiling at each other, in such a way that showed that they were clearly in love.

A covered wagon with an escort of six armed men followed them. She tried not to make a sound, but a faint snapping of a twig had all of them turning their heads to where Gwen was hiding. Who knew what they would do to her. She turned and fled, but they were on horses and easily caught up with her. The man she had first seen hopped neatly off his horse and stood in front of her. She was terrified

'What did you see girl?'

He had a smooth voice, but it was gruff.

'Tristan really, you're scaring the poor girl.'

The woman also hopped of her horse gracefully, her blonde plait over one shoulder and a thin face, which gave Gwen a friendly smile.

Gwen was tired of being subservient. She lifted her head and spoke in a clear voice

'I haven't seen anything sir. Now, I must be on my way.'

The man, Tristan, looked a bit surprised at her sudden change in character. The woman nudged Tristan gently in the ribs.

'You're all alone, without a horse or supplies. Please travel with use for as long as you wish'

Gwen, surprised in turn at her great generosity, beamed back at her and said

'I would be delighted to travel with you. I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen.'

'Tristan and Isolde'

She replied with a smile. Tristan was shooting Isolde dagger looks and smiling politely at Gwen. Gwen could care less though. She felt as if she was on the right track now.

A one without Arthur plaguing her thoughts.

'Of course!'

Merlin shot up in his bed. He hadn't been able to sleep, and he had lay awake thinking about Gwen. He would have to ask the Great Dragon to watch over her. He didn't know if the spell wore in time or not.

But he had just figured out what had gone wrong. What Lancelot had given her that had caused all of this to happen.

'Gaius! Gaius!'

Gaius groggily rubbed his eyes and squinted at Merlin.

'What is it M-Merlin?'

He managed to mutter out around a yawn. Merlin, however, was jumping around like a jack-in-the-box.

'Gaius! The bracelet! The bracelet that Lancelot gave to Gwen! That's what caused her to betray Arthur!'

'Merlin, slow down! Start from the beginning.'

Gaius was irritated that he had been woken up in the middle of the night. Merlin slowly started to explained to Gaius about the bracelet, as if confirming what he had worked out to check if he had made a mistake.

'A few days before Gwen's wedding, she was wearing a new bracelet. I asked her about it, and she had said that Lancelot had given it to her. There was something strange about that bracelet though.

'How so?'

'Like a got a foreboding feeling every time I looked at it, and I could tell when Gwen was near me, because I could feel the bracelet. I thought it was me just being paranoid or imagining things, but when Gwen was taken to Arthur the same night, she wasn't wearing it.'

Merlin calmly told Gaius. Gaius had started to fill in the blanks

'Do you think that that bracelet contained magic Merlin?'

Merlin checked his instincts. He could find no fault with his theory, and his instincts told him he had got it right. He nodded to Gaius.

'If your sure, then you need to find the bracelet that she had.'

'Right'

With that, Merlin flew out of Gaius's chambers, heading towards the dungeons.


	12. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: 'The new you'

'Try again Gwen.'

Isolde was currently teaching her more about swordsmanship. Gwen was not as good a fighter as Isolde, and had already obtain sore limbs and huge bruises from practice. Isolde was teaching her to look at the stance and build of an opponent, using their weaknesses to her advantage.

'Try again.'

Gwen had already got the hang of looking at build to check strengths and weaknesses; Isolde was a skilled fighter and light on her feet, making her more mobile than her. Gwen couldn't figure out how to use her stance to her advantage though. Isolde had the exact same stance that she had. The standard way you were meant to hold a sword.

'Come on Gwen. You can do it.'

Isolde softly encouraged her. Gwen assaulted her from her side, where it was less defended that her front. However, Isolde quickly knocked the sword out of Gwen's hands.

'It's hopeless Isolde. I don't know how to do it.'

Isolde went over to the sword, and picked it up.

'You give up so easily Gwen. Practice will help you with this skill. Now, fight me.'

Gwen didn't raise her sword immediately, but simply observed Isolde. The way she moved. The way her eyes flickered over Gwen. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calm filling her. What would she do if she was Isolde?

Gwen still hadn't raised her sword when Isolde moved in to attack. In a matter of seconds, Gwen blocked the blow, forced the sword from her hands, flipping her over and pinning her to the ground. Isolde's eyes widened and a triumphant smile broke out on her face.

'Not bad Gwen.'

Gwen removed her sword and offered Isolde her hand.

'Not too bad at all.'

They then began walking back to the campsite together.

It was later when they were sitting just in the circle of the fire when Isolde spoke out.

'I didn't tell you this before, as I thought it might have an effect on you.'

Gwen looked questioningly at Isolde.

'What do you mean Isolde?'

She put her bowl down and Gwen did the same, waiting for her to start.

'The tactic that you learnt today.'

'Yes?'

'It's truly extraordinary that you were able to perform it a few days after you started training. Most people wouldn't be able to master it like you have for many years.'

Gwen was dumbfounded. But, if she thought a little more, she could understand the reasoning behind Isolde's withdrawal of this news. If she had known this, she would have thought that the training for it was pointless.

'But, what does that mean? How can I have mastered it so quickly?'

Isolde simply shook her head, stating that she didn't know. They were silent again as they stared into the fire.

They had been on the road for just shy of a week when they were ambushed by bandits. They came from all sides, the surprise attack catching many off-guard. However, Gwen immediately snapped into action, reaching for a crossbow and fighting alongside Tristan and Isolde.

She reloaded quickly and shot down another bandit. The bandits were beginning to thin out as some died and others fled. Isolde was still fighting a few, but what she didn't see was a bandit coming up behind her. Gwen drew her sword, and plunged it deep into he chest. Blood spurted out of the wound, and he fell dead next to his fallen comrades.

Isolde turned, a little shaken that she would have been injured or could have possibly died if it hadn't been for Gwen. Gwen began to wipe the blood off her sword with a rag of cloth, while checking that Isolde was alright.

Isolde regained control almost instantly, giving a quick nod to Gwen and started to check the bodies of her friends, and checking the bodies of the bandits for anything they could use. Gwen had thought it stealing, but Tristan had just said

'Waste not, want not.'

Gwen still thought it a little bad, but she had grown used to it. She even helped a small amount. There was often something useful of their bodies; money, a weapon, arrows for a crossbow…

Gwen sheathed her now-clean sword, and picked up the crossbow she had dropped. Checking it for damage, she was satisfied that it was in perfect working order and carried it to the cart. The smell of frankincense hit her again. She had figured out that Tristan and Isolde were smugglers about a day after she had been travelling with them.

Isolde had found her looking at it, and her liking of her grew as she didn't turn Gwen out. Instead, she had complimented her on her sharp mind, and offered to train her better. Once Gwen had seen Isolde in action, she realised that there was much she could learn from her, and had taken her up on her offer. She almost never thought of Arthur now…

'I saw what you did Gwen.'

Tristan came riding up on his black stallion. Gwen turned to look up at him.

'Thank you. If you weren't there at that moment… well, Isolde would most likely have been lost to us by now.'

He gave her a small nod of the head in thanks and respect to Gwen, and went to oversee how the rest of the survivors were doing. Gwen was thrilled inside. She had always wanted Tristan to like her, and she guessed she had just earned that friendship.

'It's not there Gaius.'

Gaius turned to look up at Merlin from the book he was studying. He looked terrible. He had turned extremely pale, with large purple bruises under his eyes. He had come back-empty handed; his hopes of Gwen returning were shattered.

'Are you sure Merlin?'

Merlin nodded and sighed. He looked as if he could do with a long night's sleep, despite the fact that there was still light left in the day and his chores weren't over yet.

'Go and rest Merlin. I will go and look.'

Merlin was too tired to accompany him or even nod. He climbed the small steps to his room and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. Gaius got up, and started to make his way to the dungeons.

He got there after being stopped twice by people asking him to come and treat family members, asking for a new draft or thanking him for his efforts. He gave each person a polite smile and continued on his way.

He wasn't stopped by the guards as he made his way to the cell that Gwen had been in that night. He ducked through the iron cell door and began to search.

He had checked the cell from top the bottom thrice. It definitely wasn't there. _It must be,_ he thought frantically. _It must be here._

Unless…

He ducked out of the cell again, and turned to the guard.

'When was the lat time these cells were checked?'

'A few days ago.'

Gwen had been gone for a few weeks. Someone must have taken the bracelet.

'Was a bracelet found in this cell? Silver, a thin band?'

The guard thought a while before answering.

'Now that you mention it, yes there was. It was taken to a graveside by a friend of mine as an offering. Why do you ask?'

Gaius's hopes were fast diminishing. It could have been taken by anyone.

'Where is this graveside?'

Night had fallen by the time he got back to his chambers, out of breath and thoroughly needing rest. Merlin came down from the steps, looking a little better, but still very tired.

'Have you found it?'

Merlin's eyes drifted downwards where, in the palm of his hand, lay a silver bracelet.


	13. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: 'A Rescue of Magic'

Gwen had been travelling with Tristan and Isolde for just over a week. Isolde had continued training her, making her a more proficient fighter than ever. They had travelled next to the borders of Camelot, being aware of Gwen's banishment and not wishing to see her in harm's way.

Isolde and Tristan had grown to like Gwen for her quiet integrity and excellent swordsmanship, as well as her loyalty to her friends. During the nights spent with Tristan and Isolde, they had told each other of their pasts.

Tristan was only a boy when his village was attacked by bandits, and he alone had survived. Gwen thought this familiar, but she couldn't recall why. She had felt a slight headache start, and she focused on his tale instead. King Mark had taken him in and become his mentor, due to some distant cousinship with Tristan's mother. It was here that Isolde started to talk.

Isolde had been betrothed to King Mark, and had started travelling for her wedding. But while going to Mark's kingdom, she had met Tristan. They had fallen in love and run away together to elope, but Mark had discovered them. He let them go because of the love he held for them, and they had fled with their lives. Penniless, they had turned to smuggling to survive, and had been doing it ever since.

Gwen recounted her tale to them. About her adventures with Merlin and Arthur, how she had fallen for the King, and how he had fallen for her too. Isolde had thought this sweet that they were together for love, but Gwen's haunted face prevented her from speaking out.

Gwen moved onto the details of her betrayal and banishment. When she had finished, Isolde had simply asked

'And the man who loved you banished you?'

Gwen just nodded. The horrified looks on their faces said it all. She thought that they would think her a wicked person, since her crime must have been so terrible that the man who loved her had turned from her. But instead, Isolde and scooted over to Gwen and held her in a warm embrace. Tristan had looked a little uncomfortable at first, but he had scooted over too and began to stroke her hair.

'Don't worry about him. You're better off without him, you know. If he did that to you.'

Gwen had nodded, and whispered

'I know. But it is not him that concerns me the most. It was how everyone I knew turned from me in my moment of need.'

Isolde gave her an understanding nod, and told her that she could stay with them for as long as she needed, and Tristan had nodded also. Gwen was touched by her hospitality.

Now, she was on the back of a chestnut brown mare named Amicia, who was trotting behind Tristan and Isolde's horses, a crossbow and quiver of crossbow bolts in the horse's pack. A small dagger and a sword were on the belt Gwen was wearing, and was keeping an eye and ear of open for signs of trouble.

They had been travelling in silence through the wood when Gwen heard something.

'Wait.'

The horses and cart stopped, with every pair of eyes turned towards her.

'Listen.'

Sure enough, in the far off distance, they could hear a girl screaming.

Gwen snapped into action, riding quickly off in the direction of the screaming, with Tristan and Isolde hot on her heels. Gwen turned into a clearing to see a group of men terrorizing a girl of about six or seven. Gwen saw herself in the girl's position, when she was brutally attacked by the bandits…

Drawing her sword, Gwen kicked Amicia in the sides, setting her off at a gallop. Tristan and Isolde followed her lead, with a few guards of the wagon joining them.

Surprised, the men had barely begun to turn around when Gwen reached them, bringing her sword down and slicing on of the men's head's clean off. The girl screamed again and hid behind a tree as the rest of the group were cut down by Gwen, Tristan and Isolde.

When all the men were lying dead in a stream of their own blood, Gwen cleaned her sword, sheathed it and began slowly making her way around the tree to the girl. This girl was small with matted red hair, brown eyes and a dark red dress that was ripped at the bottom up to the knee.

She started to cry, with her hears making little streaks of white down her dirty face. Gwen kept on walking towards her, shushing and calming her, till she held her in a soft hug with the girl crying on her shoulder. Tristan and Isolde came around the corner, but stopped talking when they saw Gwen and the girl.

When the girl had finished crying, Gwen spoke up.

'It's alright, we won't hurt you. You're safe now. What's your name?

The girl snivelled a little before sobbing out a name.

'Rosalynd. My name is Rosalynd.'

'That's a beautiful name. Where are you from Rosalynd?'

Rosalynd shook her head a little before speaking.

'A druid camp. To the north-west of here.'

A druid camp. So this girl was a druid, living in the boundaries of Camelot. Gwen could not go back into Camelot on pain of death. But this girl was obviously alone, and they couldn't leave her here.

'Was there anyone here with you when those men attacked?'

Rosalynd nodded.

'Yes. There was a group of us, but I don't know where they are.'

'Were you here when they attacked you?'

Rosalynd nodded again.

'Yes. We were in the clearing when they came.'

Tristan, Isolde and Gwen all shared looks with each other before Gwen told Rosalynd

'Don't worry. We'll find the group that you were with. If we can't, we'll take you back to the druid camp in the Forest of Essitir. How does that sound?'

Rosalynd nodded.

'All right then, come with me. You can ride with me on my horse.'

Rosalynd's eyes were wide when she mentioned that she had a horse of her own. After all, horses were expensive and the only way that Tristan and Isolde had horses was by taking them from dead bandits and other fallen foes.

Gwen stood up, and offered her hands out to Rosalynd. She took them, and walked with her back to Amicia. Amicia nuzzled her head with Gwen's, and Gwen rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes.

Then, lifting Rosalynd up, she placed her in front of herself as she also swung up onto Amicia.

Merlin was walking faster towards Arthur's chambers than he ever had in his life. He had the bracelet in one hand. Gaius had quickly confirmed that the bracelet was indeed magical, and that would probably be enough to get Arthur to lift Gwen's banishment. He just hoped it wasn't too late for her…

He burst into Arthur's chambers without knocking, as usual, and saw Arthur with his had resting in his hands, with one foot up on the low stone windowsill, not making a sound.

'Sire, I have urgent news about Gwe…'

Arthur turned and marched up to Merlin.

'DO NOT MENTION HER NAME TO ME!'

Merlin could only stop and stare, his mouth open and his eyes popping out of his head like a fish. He had never seen Arthur like this before ever. His eyes were still leaking tears as he shouted at Merlin.

'HOW DARE YOU SAY HER NAME TO ME MERLIN! HOW DARE YOU BURST IN HERE AND TALK TO ME OF THAT ADULTRESS!…'

'Sire, I…'

'…IF YOU EVER SAY HER NAME TO ME AGAIN, YOU WILL JOIN HER IN EXILE!…'

'Sire,'

'…DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME MERLIN!…'

'ARTHUR, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, BE QUIET AND LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!'

That made Arthur stop in his tracks. Merlin looked deathly pale and his hands were shaking as he tried to control his anger towards Arthur. Why couldn't he stop being an arrogant jerk for one minute?

'Sire, it's about Guinevere…'

'Merlin…'

'WAIT TILL I'VE FINISHED! I found the bracelet that Lancelot gave to her…

'Merlin…'

'WILL YOU JUST WAIT! I brought it to Gaius and he said that it's enchanted.'

'What?'

It was Arthur that turned white this time. Magic was being used under his nose and still he hadn't seen it.

'Gaius said that these are symbols of the Old Religion. He said that this bracelet has a love charm on it. Gwen was wearing it, so…

'…So she was under a spell while she was wearing it.'

Arthur finished for him. He knew who had done it as soon as he thought about it properly. It had her name written all over her handiwork.

'Morgana.'

Merlin nodded.

'We believe so sire.'

Arthur was dumbfounded. He walked over to his chair and sunk down in it. He felt as if he had aged a million years in just those few seconds. So it was Morgana. She had raised Lancelot from the dead. She had put the spell on the bracelet. She had done it to stop Gwen from taking the throne beside him. Now it all made sense.

Merlin barely heard what Arthur said next.

'What have I done Merlin? What have I done?'


	14. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: 'A Druid Camp'

They had been travelling all day. Rosalynd was beginning to doze against Gwen's warm chest, the soft thuds of the Amicia's hooves below them helping to ease her into sleep.

'So, Gwen…oh.'

Isolde had fallen behind to talk to Gwen, but seeing Rosalynd almost asleep made her instantly lower her voice.

'The druid camp…you don't have to…since it's…you know.'

Gwen nodded, a reassuring smile on her lips. Inside, though, she was terrified that she would be executed. Arthur had banished her on pain of death; she doubted that he would be so merciful to her this time.

'No, I want to. Rosalynd would probably be scared if I left now. I have nowhere to go. And anyway, the druids may be able to help me with something.'

Isolde nodded. She didn't want to pry into Gwen's thoughts. She had tried subtly, but Gwen had just clammed up and didn't say anything. And besides, Gwen had gone through enough without being forced to open up to Isolde.

Rosalynd murmured and sighed in her sleep. Gwen thought back to earlier that day.

Gwen, Tristan and Isolde had found the rest of Rosalynd's group easily enough. Gwen had had to stay at the top of the hill with Rosalynd while Tristan and Isolde had checked for survivors. She could smell the mounds of bodies and the grim looks of the couple when they came back up told Gwen all she needed to know.

They had set out for the druid camp in the forest of Essetir around midday, after lunch. Tristan and Isolde had not eaten anything, looking ill at the mere mention of food. _What had they seen?_, Gwen thought to herself. Part of her wanted to know, but the stench of death had told her that ignorance was bliss.

It was in this situation at least.

The golden sun was slowly setting behind the trees, and Tristan decided to stop and make camp for the night. It wasn't until later that night when Isolde spoke out.

'Gwen. When you attacked the men…'

Isolde stopped awhile, and Gwen thought back to the flashes of her charging at the men, her anger blazing in her eyes, making her a formidable foe.

'I've never seen you like that before Gwen. Tell me. What snapped in you? And don't shut me off.'

Isolde quickly added. Gwen had been considering it when she started to talk. Despite knowing Isolde for such a short time, she was already like an older sister to Gwen. Gwen sighed. She could shut out everyone forever, so it might as well be Isolde that she opened up to.

'When I saw them, all I thought of was the bandits attacking me. It could have been me, being attacked by those men. I saw myself as Rosalynd.'

Isolde didn't say anything immediately after Gwen told her, and all they could hear was the rustling of the leaves, like dresses made of the finest materials swaying and moving as their owner walked, and the crackling of the fire in the centre on the camp, flickering on their faces and showing Isolde's unreadable expression

'Isolde…?'

Gwen was becoming worried now. The sun had long since set and Isolde still hadn't said anything to her.

'Sorry Gwen. It's just…you remind me of someone I know.'

'Oh, who?'

Isolde tuned to Gwen and smiled at her, the warm smile of sisterly compassion.

'Me.'

They all rose as dawn was breaking, signifying the new day, turning the sky so many shades of yellow and gold, melding into each other with such beauty that it was captivating. Gwen just wanted to stop and watch, until the sun blinded her eyes. But there was work and travelling to be done.

Rosalynd held her hand as they walked to Amicia, with the young girl helping Gwen saddle and check the mare over.

'Okay, lets go everyone.'

Tristan's voice rang over the soft chirping of the birds residing in the trees and the chatter of the men as they loaded the cart. Rosalynd's hand snaked its way into hers and Gwen looked down at her.

'Will we get there soon Gwen?'

Gwen smiled at her. She had always comforted and helped those around her, but this girl had found the place in her heart that Arthur had ripped a huge hole, and she felt it slowly starting to heal.

'Don't worry Rosalynd, we'll get there soon. It's less than a days ride now.'

She reassured the girl as she lifted Rosalynd off the ground and onto the horse's waiting back.

A grey cloud hung over the city of Camelot. Arthur had cleared Guinevere and Lancelot's name, stating that they were enchanted and lifting Guinevere's banishment. All were ashamed of their actions on that fateful day. All felt downhearted. And they all waited in vain to see if their lost queen would come back to her home and take her place on the throne beside their king. But she did not return.

Day after day after day went by, and there was still no sign of her. _Give it time_, people had said, _she will come back eventually._

But how long was 'eventually'? There was a great chance that she was no longer on this earth. But there was still a faint glimmer of hope.

And it was quickly fading.

Finally, Merlin could stand it no more. The moon's white glow filtered through the window, not helping him to sleep at all. He got up and quickly dressed. He had to know. He had to be sure.

He sneaked out of the city, going to a clearing in the woods nearby, and summoned the Great Dragon. He heard him before he saw him, his wings slicing through the air and he landed gracefully in front of Merlin

'No doubt you have come to ask me of the future queen, young warlock.'

Merlin sighed. He sometimes found the Kilgharrah's knowledge irritating. Sometimes.

'And…?'

He drew the word into a question.

'I could tell exactly where she was from the protection spell you put on her. She's dripping in protective magic. But the young queen needs time Merlin. She needs to discover who she really is. She may not return for months. Years, even.'

Merlin was not exactly pleased with this news.

'What do you mean?'

'The young queen is not all she seems to be Merlin. She does not yet know this herself, but with the path Arthur has set her on, she will find out the riddle of her being.'

Merlin came with a hope that Kilgharrah might have some answers for him. But the riddles that the dragon was telling him was only making him more confused.

'You said that she 'is not all that she seems.' What do mean by that? And NO riddles.'

Kilgharrah just sighed.

'She will not just marry into a place of high rank. She was born into one too.'

'Wait a minute, are you saying that Gwen was high-born?'

'That's exactly what I'm saying Merlin. But she does not yet know this. She needs to discover it before she completes her part of the legends.'

'But what of Arthur? You said that she may not return for years. Arthur is a broken man. What if he doesn't fulfil his part of the legend?'

The dragon shook his head.

'I cannot help you with this Merlin. But the king will learn to appreciate the queen when she returns.'

Without saying anything more, the dragon spread his leathery wings and flew off into the black sky.

Merlin just stood there for a few minutes. _Gwen was high-born?_ he thought. _Impossible._

But it wasn't entirely.

A splitting headache pounding through to the bottom of his skull, he walked slowly back to Camelot.

What did it all mean?


	15. NOTE

NOTE:

Hi everyone. Thank you for reading this far into the story, and thanks for the reviews too. Listen, I don't know whether to continue this story or not, since I've found it very difficult to do the writing part.

Let me know in a review whether you want me to continue, and any ideas for the future.


	16. Thank you

THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!

I have read the reviews and I wish to thank everyone for the inspirational support for writing the story and my talent in doing it. I have decided to continue the story, as you have asked me to do so. I will continue to update and the next chapters will be up shortly.

Thanks.


	17. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: 'Thank you'

Gwen yawned. They had been on horseback all day. Rosalynd had told them that they were near the camp, and all was silent apart from the sounds of the forest. Tristan held his closed palm in the air, signalling them to stop. He dismounted, along with Isolde, and she lifted Rosalynd off Amicia. Gwen dismounted, keeping Rosalynd close. She quickly caught up with Tristan.

'Tristan?'

'Shhhh.'

He quieted her, and stopped dead in a defensive stance. Hand on sword Gwen walked forward, not daring to make a sound, with Rosalynd following close behind. Far off in the distance, she could hear the soft voices of people, little wisps of smoke from a campfire making a small column which was snaking up into the never-ending blue of the sky.

'The camp.'

Rosalynd must have heard the noises too, because she ran off in the direction of the sound. Gwen quickly gave chase.

'Rosalynd! Rosalynd, wait!'

'C'mon!'

Her voice sounded far away, but Gwen turned into a clearing and saw the shadows and shapes of tents, with Rosalynd's hair whipping back as she ran towards them. Gwen ran after her.

'Rosalynd!'

She was out of breath when she finally caught up with her. Some of the men came out of their tents to see what was going on, and what the sound was. All of them looked warily at Gwen, as she was a stranger, and they couldn't trust strangers easily. But a aging man with a red bushy beard can towards them, his clear blue eyes lighting up when he saw Rosalynd bounding towards him.

'Father!'

She threw herself into his arms and started crying with tears of joy. He closed his huge arms around her and returned the embrace as Tristan and Isolde came and stood next to Gwen.

'Are you the ones who saved my little girl?'

He asked it as a question to all of them, but stared directly at Gwen when he spoke.

'Yes sir. We found he alone in the forest. And the group she was with.'

'And where are they?'

Gwen couldn't say anything more, but simply started at the ground and shook her head slightly. He understood what this meant. A look of sorrow passed over his face and blazed in his eyes as he picked Rosalynd up.

'Father! Father, I missed you! This is Gwen. She's really nice, and let me ride with her on her horse. This is Tristan and Isolde. Isolde's really kind too.'

Tristan looked at Rosalynd.

'What about me, kiddo?'

Rosalynd looked shyly up at him, and half hid behind her father.

'I like you, but you can be a little scary at times.'

Tristan raised his eyebrows.

'Oh, like when?'

Rosalynd hid a little more in her father's shadow.

'Like when you order your men around, telling them to pack up and when to stop for the night, and things like that.'

Tristan let a little chuckle out of his throat, and Isolde playfully nudged him in the shoulder. Gwen returned her attention to Rosalynd's father

'Then if you saved my daughter, you are most welcome here. I am Gyrlorn, the leader of this little band of druids.'

Gwen made a slight bow and inclined her head, showing her respect. Tristan and Isolde followed her example. He seemed a little surprised at this, but seemed to welcome it.

'Are you hungry? Send your men and wagon down, we will see that your horses are fed and watered.'

'Thank you.'

The day was very busy until the sun had set. The horses and the wagon took a lot of work getting down to the camp, and then everyone helped to catch and cook food for the camp.

Gyrlorn declared a small feast in their honour, for restoring his daughter to him. The druids still gave them slightly wary looks, but any hostile ones diminished at this announcement. Dancing and talking went on late into the night, and the men had a fair share of drink each.

However, Gyrlorn did not join them for the feast. Instead, he went back to his tent, and stayed there. When most of the men were drunk and some had passed out, she went to the tent and ducked under the wooden frame doorway, pushing the skin flap aside.

'Gyrlorn? Gyrlorn, are you in here?'

'I was wondering when you would come.'

Gwen jumped a little, and saw him sitting within the ring of light the small fire in the center of the tent gave off.

'You come to ask of your dreams, do you not?'

'How did you know?'

'Magic can tells us things as well as be used by us Gwen. Please, sit.'

Gwen moved slowly towards the rugs and blankets laid out on the floor, and crossed her legs as she sat.

'Now, what do you wish to ask me?'

'These dreams, are they memories?

'Yes child, they are memories. Long forgotten ones, of a time you will not be able to remember for a while yet.'

'In the dream, I was wearing...'

She trailed off. He studied her over the flickering flames.

'Yes?'

'In the dream, I could've swore I was wearing velvet.'

'Yes?'

'I am the daughter of a blacksmith. We can't afford velvet. Only high-born ladies, ones of privilege, can afford velvet.'

'So you want to know whether you are high-born or not? If that is the case, I think you have already supplied yourself with the answer. You say that only ladies of privilege can afford velvet, so it is logical that you are a lady of privilege.'

Gwen couldn't believe what she was hearing. It had never struck her before to even think she was a high-born woman, so this revelation came as something of a shock.

'But I was a maid. I worked in a smithy before that. With my father.'

'What can you remember before that?'

This was becoming confusing to Gwen. She had had a father, a brother, a mother whom she had never known. But, she felt as if there was something deeper, underneath it all.

She thought of the river turning into the sea she though she had seen when she was running, and the burning houses in the trees. Maybe that had something to do with it. She told Gyrlorn of this, and he patiently listened. When she had finished, he nodded his head thoughtfully.

'These might be previous memories form before you were with the blacksmith. May I?'

He shuffled towards Gwen, and she immediately backed away a foot or so.

'What are you doing?'

'If you permit me, I can try to reach into your mind, bring these memories out again.'

Gwen wasn't sure about this, but she didn't know where to go from this point. If she didn't take this chance, she might as well travel with Tristan and Isolde forever. She thought of them like family, but she needed to find out what these dreams were.

She swallowed and nodded.

He held his hand over her head, and closed his eyes. He began to mutter inaudibly, and Gwen's vision swam.

The it all came back.

The beach.

The village.

The way of living.

And seeing Camelot rising above the horizon for the first time.

She cried out and gasped. She felt like she couldn't breath. Gyrlorn quickly removed his hand and pressed a beaker of cold water into her trembling hands.

'Do you remember now?'

A few tears escaped the confined of her eyes as she whispered

'I remember now. I remember everything.'

She gulped the water down and held the beaker tightly in her hands.

'I know where I need to go from here. Thank you, for everything.'

'As I understand it, it is I who should thank you.'

Arthur was in his room, fingering the ring he had found earlier that day, letting the tears slip down his face unchecked. He recalled what had happened that morning.

He was riding in the woods with a group of his knights when he had found the bandit camp. Or what was left of it. Judging from the wolves' bodies, the pack that had attacked them had been pretty large.

He had been turning to leave when he had seen it glimmering in the sunlight. In a bandit's hand.

He had knelt down and prised the hand open to get at it. It was the ring he had given to Guinevere in the day he had proposed marriage to her. Why was it in this bandit's hand? Where was she? He knew only one thing could've happened to her.

He had walked to the nearest tree, and had thrown up. When there was nothing left in his stomach to puke, he caught his breath, and looked at the ring. Where was her body? What had they done to her?

He had searched the camp multiple times before he had finally given up hope of finding her.

He came back to the present and looked down at the ring in his hands again. Only one thing ran through his troubled mind.

What had he done?


	18. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: 'Fond Farewell'

She had to do it. It was time to move on. She would miss Tristan and Isolde; they were like family to her during these trying times. But she had to. She needed to find out who she was. And so, it was that day that she said her goodbyes to them.

'Are you sure about this Gwen?'

Isolde eyed her worriedly. She was the first one out of the couple that Gwen had told that she was leaving.

'I really want to stay Isolde, but I need to do this.'

'I understand, Gwen. Just, do me a favour and watch yourself. But you know that already don't you…'

Isolde trailed away, becoming lost in thought. She was clearly worried that something like what happened with the bandits might happen to Gwen again, and this time, she wouldn't have a lucky escape.

'I promise, I'll be as careful as I can. And, thank you. For all you've done for me. It means a lot.'

Isolde simply nodded, and hugged Gwen in such a sisterly way, she knew there was a good chance she would never see her again, but would always miss her. Gwen squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she captured this hug in her memory, to take out later.

'Hey Gwen. I wanted to catch you before you went off.'

Tristan came loping down a small bank, where Gwen had gone to set off in the direction of the coast. They didn't say anything to each other. Then Gwen gave a small shrug and pulled him into a tight hug. Tristan looked a little surprised at first, but soon returned the hug just as warmly as Gwen.

'Please be careful. Both of you. I know you can handle yourself, but still, watch your backs.'

'Don't worry about us Gwen. We have each other's backs.'

Isolde gave Tristan a slight nudge in the ribs with her elbow, and they smiled at each other with a love that she had only given Arthur…

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she gave them a wide smile, mounted her horse, and gave her a slight kick in the sides. Amicia set off at a trot, and turned back to wave at Tristan and Isolde. They waved back, and disappeared from view completely as brown of bark and green leaves blocked Gwen's view.

The coast. That was were she had washed up. Where exactly, she didn't know, but it had washed up on it, so if she got to the coast, and followed it along, she might be able to find something.

That was the idea, anyway…

She might not even recognise it. How would she know she passed it? She couldn't wander the shoreline forever.

Gwen smiled bitterly to herself as she pulled Amicia's reigns a little to the left.

But that was the beautiful irony of it, she thought to herself. She could wander the shoreline forever. No-one would come looking for her, there was nowhere she needed to be…

Well, only when she got to the beach, she would know for sure. So, with that final thought, she kicked Amicia in the sides again, and the mare started to gallop across a clearing with a few wilted leaves. Gwen immediately looked around the clearing and checked for signs of an ambush, waiting for someone to come into their trap.

Satisfied that there was no-one else in this part of the forest, she went around the outskirts of the forest, still not tempted to take the risk.

The only thing she could do now was wait…

'Are you sure Merlin? Absolutely sure that's what he said?'

Gaius was sitting at the table, and Merlin was opposite him, eating their supper. Merlin had just told him of the Great Dragon's words about Gwen the previous night.

'I couldn't not remember it. It's one of the most direct answers he has ever given me. And besides, I asked him about it directly, and he said that she was high-born.'

Gaius looked like he couldn't believe his ears. Merlin knew he still couldn't believe his own, and he was the one Kilgharrah had told.

'Well, if the Dragon is right, and Gwen is high-born, then she doesn't know it yet.'

Gaius said the words slowly, like he was working it out in his head as he spoke.

'Does she know she might be?'

'He didn't elaborate on that part, but if we know it, she might have a good idea that she is.'

Gaius sighed.

'Well, this doesn't make her life any easier. If she knows she might be high-born, she will probably go looking for her roots, right?'

Merlin thought about what he would do if he was Gwen. Curiosity to find out the truth would be burning at him, until he started to search for it. Merlin nodded his head.

'Yes. Kilgharrah said that she might not be back for months, or even years. Out there on her own, there is a good chance she wont come back at all.'

Merlin and Gaius shared their facial expression. They both missed Gwen with all their hearts, grieved for her as if she was dead. Hell, they didn't know if she was still alive or not. The feeling of guilt gnawed at them both from the inside out. If they had figured out that she was under an enchantment earlier, they wouldn't be in this horrible predicament…

'Well Merlin, it seems there is nothing we can do. However, if Arthur organises search parties for her, you need to make sure you find her Merlin.'

'I know. I just wish I had figured it out earlier…'

'We are both to blame Merlin. It wasn't just you. I should have known that type of magic better than anyone. I should have known Morgana would be planning something like this.'

'Yes, but Gaius, I should've too.'

'There is nothing we can do about it now Merlin. All we can do is wait.'


	19. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: 'The Slave'

Gwen had been travelling for some days now that she was beginning to lose count. She was walking alongside Amicia as the mare was starting to tire from the long journey that day had brought. Her feet were boiling, and the leather from her boots was rubbing against her socks. There were only trees around her, the rustling of leaves never stopping.

Gwen could still hardly believe it. She was a high-born woman! This revelation lead onto so many unanswered questions; Who were her family? Did they search for her? Were they still searching? Did she have siblings?

She sighed a little and winced as her feet rubbed against the boots. She would continue to head west. The coast is where she needed to go.

She was on the main path through the forest when she saw a covered prison wagon in a ditch to her left. She pulled Amicia to an abrupt stop. There didn't seem to be anybody there, but Gwen knew better than to rush off down there. After all, she could be walking into a trap.

Leaving the chestnut mare by the side of the road, Gwen put a bolt in the crossbow and cautiously headed down the ditch, sliding a little on the wet patches of grass. She reached the bottom, wary and skirting the edge of the tree line. At least, this way she would know if there was anyone in the trees before her.

She waited a while, checking her surroundings before moved away from the trees. There was no-one here. The danger passed slightly, Gwen lowered her crossbow, but did not unarm it. If any unfriendly character should appear, she would be able to easily take him out.

It was extremely strange. Where was everyone? No-one left a prison wagon in a ditch. There were no signs of a campfire, or of horses. There were no tracks anywhere in the slightly muddy ground. It was as if no-one had ever been here.

But they must have been.

Gwen walked over to the prison wagon, and inspected it. It was immediately clear that whoever was in here sure wasn't getting out from the inside; there were metal bars covered by thick wood on either side and a triple lock on the little hatch to the inside. One of the wheels had come off, tilting the wagon. A huge gash down the side of the wagon was spiked with razor sharp splinters in the wood. Gwen started to call out, in case anyone was still in there.

'Hello? Is anyone in there?'

She was half-crouching by the huge gash. She couldn't tell what had made it, as the wood was perfectly intact. There were no scratch marks on it anywhere. Gwen lowered her head to peer through the bars, her dark, wavy strands of hair shrouding her face. Almost instantly, an arm and a dirty hand shot out from between the holes in the bars, and Gwen jumped back so fast she almost toppled of the wagon onto the ground.

The hand still moved around, seemingly searching for her. Gwen hardly dared to breath, but slowly moved towards the hand, calling out again.

'Hello? Are you hurt?'

Gwen reached the hand. The knuckles were slightly bloody, and dirt covered the palms and fingers. Gwen hesitated before reaching out and grasping the hand in her own. She repositioned herself to get a better look at the occupant, and her hand started to be pulled down, and a very muddy, desperate face appeared from behind the bars.

'Please…'

The fractured whisper had a feminine ring to it, and the small amount of light cast a shadow over the person's chest, showing her to be a woman.

'Please.'

Gwen took her appearance in one experienced glance. Her sunken face and bony arm showed that she must be starving. Gwen started to reassure her.

'Don't worry, I'll get you out. Just stay calm.'

Gwen started to move off in the direction of the hatch, but the woman's grip on her hand turned vice-like.

'Don't leave me, please don't leave me.'

Gwen came back over to the gash.

'It's alright, I'm not going anywhere. Look, I need to go over there to the hatch, and see if I can open it. Just stay here by the opening. I need you to let go of my hand now. I won't leave you.'

Sky blue eyes looked at her unbelievingly.

'Promise me.'

The whisper came out as a hissing plea. Gwen nodded and covered the woman's hand with her spare one.

'I promise, I won't leave you here. I need you to let go of my hand.'

The woman's grip loosened gradually and Gwen quickly pulled her hand out of the woman's grasp, rubbing it where the woman's grimy fingernails had dug into her coffee skin. Putting her weight on her hands, she shimmied over to the hatch and started to test the door for weaknesses. After finding none, Gwen decided just to kick the door open.

Swinging from a wooden ledge at the very end of the wagon, she gathered her strength and poured it all out in the three very well aimed kicks at the door. However, nothing happened. Gwen tried again, but still the door wouldn't budge.

Her frustration growing, she examined the door again. She noticed something that had missed her gaze before; due to the moisture in the air, the hinges had started rust, making them more likely to smash. Kicking here might beak the hinges.

'Alright, I need you to stay by the opening, okay?'

Gwen heard a muffled reply. Swinging from the ledge again, she aimed her kick right next to the hinges. A large creaking sound and a slight wobble from the door made Gwen kick it again in the same spot. It wobbled more.

Gwen swung from the ledge and readjusted her grip. She used both legs this time and hit the door right on the top of the hinges, shattering them like glass. Gwen let go of the ledge and dropped neatly to the ground. Inspecting the door, she started to shoulder it, making a large gap.

'Alright, you'll have to climb out. It's okay, don't worry.'

The woman's skinny hands appeared out of the blackness, and her sunken face came into the light. She started to pull herself out, her legs following her torso. She landed face down in the mud, gasping and coughing. Gwen knelt down and started to reach out, but the woman scampered away and backed up against the wagon

'Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Are you injured?'

The woman's suspicious look remained, even though she shook her head slightly.

'Are you hungry? I have some food here if you want it.'

As soon as Gwen offered out some bread and a gourd of water. The woman had snatched them out of her hands and was already starting to eat them. Gwen looked over the woman's skeletal frame.

There was a strange mark just below the woman's collarbone which Gwen did not recognise; three curves overlapping with a small circle above the center. It wasn't a bruise or a birthmark, it was to precise for that. The red skin around it indicated that it was a brand of some sort. It suddenly struck Gwen. The woman was a slave.

As the woman finished off the bread and water, Gwen started to try and figure out what to do with her.

Arthur had one leg up on the low windowsill again, staring outside but not really taking in the view of the courtyard. He was lost in thought.

Thought about Guinevere to be precise.

It had been weeks since she had left Camelot. There was no sign of her anywhere, no voice laying her whereabouts to rest. It was driving Arthur insane. He didn't know where she was, if she was alright. _You should have thought about that before you banished her, _the little voice in his head told him. He couldn't argue with it, because it was totally right. He was blinded by his hurt and bruised ego, and now he had to bear this unending torment.

He was so terrible to her, all he wanted was for her to come back, and to sweep her in his arms and marry her. He wanted to see her so badly, but even just a whisper about where she was would have laid his mind into a rest of some sort. It was a wonder he hadn't lost his mind already.

He stayed in that position for hours, until he finally decided he could just sit and wait to see if he would hear anything. He would wait four more weeks, and if there wasn't any news of her from the council or the townspeople, he would send out small search parties to find out what had happened to her. He would wait forever if he had to.

Merlin couldn't sleep. Again. He was worrying about Gwen. Again.

He rolled over onto his stomach and his mind turned over on Gwen's hidden lineage. He still couldn't believe it. He was surprised that she hadn't known it either though. She must have been really young not to remember it. He sat up as it was apparent that sleep wasn't going to come anytime soon. There must be some record in Geoffrey of Monmouth's libraries of a missing noblewoman. He just might be able to find out which family she came from.

He quickly dressed and meet Gaius reading a book at his bench.

'Where do you think you're going Merlin?'

'Gaius, I can't sleep. All I can think about is what the Dragon was talking about. So I figured that there must be something in the libraries that might shed more light on the whole situation.'

'Maybe Merlin, but it could take weeks to sort through all those records. And anyway, why wouldn't anyone have come here searching for her?'

'She might be from a foreign land, and been kidnapped or something. Will you help me Gaius?'

'Of course Merlin, but you may be looking in the wrong place. Don't feel downhearted if you don't find what you're looking for immediately.'

Merlin gave him a grateful, lopsided smile.

'Thanks Gaius.'

And with that, he set off across Gaius's chambers with a new purpose. It was like he had said; if a noblewoman had gone missing, there would be some record of it somewhere.

All Merlin had to do now was find that somewhere.


	20. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: 'Respite'

Gwen had stood there for a long time, trying to figure out what to do. If she was a slave on her way somewhere, then someone might be expecting her. The fact that the guards had just vanished into thin air was in itself extremely puzzling. She would have to ask the woman about it, but she didn't look like she was going to talk any time soon.

Or maybe she couldn't. Not properly.

The woman still didn't trust Gwen enough to open her mouth for her to find out. Despite assurances that she had often worked with Gaius, the physician in Camelot, it was to no avail. She stubbornly refused to even tell Gwen her name. She only nodded or shook her head as a reply to Gwen's questions.

Gwen was brought back to earth by the sticks in the fire shifting, letting out a huge wave of heat which struck Gwen in the face, the tendrils of flames licking up at the sky far above. She sighed and her gaze shifted over to the woman again, who was curled up peacefully under a rough blanket and dozing. Her gaze returned to the fire in front of her and she became lost in thought again.

The people who were expecting her might come looking for her, and they would be sure to search any towns and villages nearby. She could take to woman to a town far away, but she couldn't leave her by herself there. If she could find someone who would take her in, take care of her, then she would be able to leave her without a worryingly heavy conscience.

The plan sounded so simple, but it would probably be difficult to find anyone like that. Autumn was approaching and food would most likely be scarce through the cold months of winter, so the last thing people would be looking for was another mouth to feed. However, Gwen argued back at herself, there would be at least one person who would be kind enough to take her in.

There was a place that would definitely take her in; the Glastonbury Abbey, situated on a cliff facing a large lake in the north-west. The woman may not be a nun, but they would be sure to look after her and treat he kindly. Then the nuns could help her to get work in the fields, or she could become a nun herself. That sounded like a more reliable option.

Gwen decided that was the best thing to do, and to tell the woman in the morning. She slipped into the bushes to relieve herself. However, when she returned to the fire, she was not asleep, but sitting up and staring into the fire like Gwen had done earlier. Her gaze only partly moved to Gwen as she came into the circle of firelight the orange flames gave out.

Gwen sat awhile before figuring that she should tell the woman of her plans now, as she was awake and they would have to leave immediately when they woke to avoid being caught by anyone who came looking for them. She began hesitantly, getting straight to the point.

'Whoever gave the orders for your transport will have realised that you won't be arriving by now. I cannot leave you at any towns or villages in this area; they'll be sure to look for you there.'

Gwen looked over at the woman and scrutinised her face for any emotion. But her face remained completely calm and black. Her eyes didn't even turn to Gwen as she spoke, she could have not heard at all.

'I'll take you further north than the forest the road runs through. Then I can take you to a town or village if you wish, and find someone to take you in.'

The woman's gaze shifted to Gwen as she said this last statement. Her face stayed blank.

'Or I could take you to the Glastonbury Abbey in the north-west. They will be sure to take you in. What do you think?'

The woman still did not speak. She seemed indecisive, but Gwen couldn't tell for sure. Silence settled back over them both, and the crackling of the fire echoed in Gwen's ears, magnified by the quiet.

Tristan and Isolde flashed into Gwen's mind. What were they doing now? From what she knew of them, they would be sitting together, contented to be with each other, sitting by a campfire much like this one, the burning embers vanishing in the cold air. Gwen truly missed them with all her heart.

Or what was left of it.

They were the ones who had filled in the massive gaping tear in her heart when it had been so cruelly torn. She had forced herself not to think of Camelot and its occupants, but now her mind drifted to Merlin, not Arthur, Elyan or Tom.

She wasn't angry at Merlin. He wasn't to blame. She remembered his dark hair and long smiling features, his ears turning pink whenever he was embarrassed, like when she had found him a couple of times in Morgana's chambers. And his lopsided smile that had that cheeky and self-assured confidence.

Gwen smiled a little at the thought of him. He always made her smile when she was upset. He always had that talent to make her feel better. Not even Arthur could do it as well as he could.

But that might be because he had had more practise.

Gwen's smile faltered when she thought of Arthur. The pain had subsided a little, but it was still the prominent emotion she felt when she thought of his sandy blonde hair and sapphire eyes, the roughness of his palm and the softness of his lips…

Gwen shook her head and sighed. She needed to stop thinking about him!

'Have you decided what you want to do?'

The woman looked down at the ground and shrugged her shoulders a little. Gwen was starting to get frustrated. She had to decide so Gwen could figure out which way to go and how long it would take to get there.

'You need to decide. Tonight.'

She still said nothing.

'Will you not speak to me? I won't hurt you. The fact that I freed you is proof of that. Please say something to me.'

Gwen didn't want to grovel to the woman, but she was tired and her calm temper had already been tested enough.

Gwen looked back at the fire when she spoke again.

'I don't even know your name.'

Gwen was going to retire for the night, and had started to lie down when the woman spoke properly for the first time.

'Lira. My name is Lira.'

Agravaine finally had them. It had taken so long, Morgana was beginning to grow angry with him. But now he had exactly what he wanted, and he was on his way to meet her now. He smiled to himself. That troublesome Gaius had not realised. Arthur had not realised. Not even that idiot-servant of his had realised. That was a feat in itself, as hardly anything Agravaine did slipped past him unnoticed.

His triumphant smile became one of mockery. He was most likely still worrying over that peasant girl Guinevere. He almost laughed out loud at how gullible Arthur had been to get rid of her when she had fallen into Morgana's trap. Now there was a small chance the girl was still alive. The damage had been done. She would never come back to Camelot, despite Arthur's annoying self-pity and high hopes of it. He really couldn't see what Arthur saw in her. She was a peasant after all, and they would never be fit to sit on the throne.

Morgana's throne.

And soon, it seemed it would be.

He was almost at the camp now. The items were tucked under his blue cloak, and light from torches were flickering in the near distance. Morgana would be pleased with him. All his assurances and attempts had ended in success.

Suddenly Morgana appeared, as if from thin air, in front of him. He wasn't shocked by it anymore. Morgana didn't say anything at first, as he smiled and handed the roll of parchment to her.

'It would be not good to disappoint me once more, Agravaine.'

She began walking and unrolling towards a table, barely visible in the semi-darkness.

'Plans to the siege tunnels of Camelot is as good as a key to the great gates.'

He smiled at her as she finished unrolling the plans, laying them out flat on top of another layer of parchment.

'And a good deal more deadly.'

She began to recite a spell.

_'Thay-yae liknas,_

_on fisna tham they, _

_glutaetha.'_

As soon as she had finished, her face began to glow as if from a fire on the table. Agravaine peered over to see the lines of ink burning a bright orange. As she began rolling it up again, he could just see that the lines had been copied onto the parchment below.

She handed to planes back to him.

'You've done well Agravaine. Finally.'


	21. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: 'The Villa'

Gwen had been walking for most of the day. She hadn't rode on Amicia, as the woman, now known to her as Lira, was still weak from her slavery and imprisonment in the abandoned cage. They were in the middle of nowhere, with a beaten dirt track leading them through the trees that all looked the same; tall, thin with a green canopy at the top. A few of the leaves had started to drift down to the ground, to decay and rot, but autumn was still a way off yet.

Gwen and Lira had not spoken unless it was necessary. Lira had still not decided where to go, but who can rush with that sort of decision? Gwen wasn't one to judge, and her patience had grown a little more, back to what it once was, from the peaceful presence of the woman. Gwen didn't like to disturb that kind of silence.

Lira had not told her anything about herself apart from her name. But Gwen was thankful. At least she knew what to call her. It seemed that this mysterious woman had finally trusted her enough to give it to her, which encouraged Gwen to see Lira through to a comfortable place.

The dazzling sun had dipped in the slightly clouded sky, making their centres seems grey, and their rims tinged with blinding gold. The colours above their heads were turning from blue to purple and pink. They would need to stop for the night soon.

Gwen had grown to like her new freeness, not to be stopped or anything to be expected of her, where she could wander anywhere she pleased without anyone coming to search for her. This strange solitude had become calming from the constant bustle of daily life in Camelot.

And the memories of it too.

A bird could be heard singing to them close by, just out of sight. Gwen's head snapped towards the sound. Yes, her reflexes were sharpening, and any immediate sound made her slightly jittery.

Gwen was going to walk on by when she saw a glimmer of white in the trees. She halted Amicia, earning a puzzled look from Lira. The sun emerged from behind a wisp of cloud, illuminating the white again. Gwen couldn't let this just pass her by.

'Stay here.'

Lira did not reply, as usual, but merely waited as Gwen stole into the woods. Moving her way through thin branches, she came upon the crumbling ruins of a roman villa. Its state was pitiful.

Poison ivy was snaking its way up the walls, the cracks and breaks in them covered by the foliage. The top floor had no roof, the sky clearly visible through the empty windows. Random pieces of the wall were scattered about.

Gwen knew that such cover from the outside would have probably been discovered already, and did a thorough search through the ruins with her sword unsheathed. She wasn't going to take any chances.

The sun had almost set by the time that Gwen made her way back to the horse and woman. Amicia reared a little at Gwen's sudden appearance, but after calming the horse a little, Gwen took the reigns and lead the way through the trees.

Night had fallen a while ago. After much indecision, Gwen had started a small fire in what remained of an alcove in the wall. At least that way, it would be harder to see it in the black. She had caught a pair of rabbits a little way off, and had skinned them. She was slowly stirring the meat in the watery stew she had made. She split in half with Lira. That was when she couldn't take this silence any longer.

'I know you probably don't like talking much, but have you decided where you want to go yet?'

She thought she wasn't going to say anything, like usual. However, she was pleasantly surprised.

'I was thinking of going to the abbey. Do you know it?'

Gwen was so shocked to hear her speak that she nearly choked on the stew.

'A little. I know that they will take you in for sure. I that where you want to head to?'

Lira gave Gwen a slight nod. Gwen started to calculate how long it would take to get there. If they stuck to the roads and lanes, they would go through the Dyffryn hills, and could circle around to get to the top of the west ridge, where the abbey sat. It would take about seven days to get there from Gwen's reckoning.

_But I need to head west, to the coast. _A little voice appeared in her head. It didn't matter. The coast would still be there in seven days time.

'Alright then.'

Gwen thought about not saying anything else, but Lira's origins still bothered here. Silence crept over the small camp and Gwen asked her about them anyway.

'Where are you from Lira?'

'A small village. I was taken by slave traders when I was gathering berries. They took me to a stone town, where I was bought by a rich man.'

Here she faltered a little, and Gwen was trying to puzzle out her words. Stone town? Ah, she realised she must have been talking about a castle. The fact that she had not even known what a castle was showed how much of a sheltered life she had led.

'They were taking me to him. I was branded and put in the cart. It seemed like forever before we stopped, and I could hear the men screaming outside. It all went silent after that. I just waited. That's when you found me.'

Gwen frowned. If she was clearly on her way to the man who bought her, something must have attacked them, but what could leave no marks like that?

Working out time slots in her head, Gwen found that the attack had happened the day before she had found her.

As they lay down to sleep, Gwen's mind turned over what could have happened. She kept envisioning terrifying beasts that devoured all the men. She rolled over on her side, and fell into a disturbed sleep.

'That is my decision.'

There was some uproar at Arthur's proposal to send out search parties, but it was mostly from Agravaine.

'But sire…'

'Uncle, I will not be swayed from this. After how I treated her, she is at least owed that much.'

The members of the council started to file out of the doors at the end of the hall. All of them except his uncle.

'Sire, hear me out.'

Arthur was about to interrupt him again, but Agravaine continued before he could say anything.

'Guinevere could be anywhere, she could have gone in any direction. For all we know, she may not be alive.'

Arthur once again was going to interrupt, but Agravaine saw it, and quickly hurried on.

'I truly feel sorry for what I did to Guinevere, as you do, as we all do. But sire, you must realise that this could go on for months without any word from her. And if you find the news you are looking for, there is a good chance it will be the last news you hear of her.'

'Uncle, it is my decision. She should never of been banished. I have wronged Guinevere, and therefore will try to make amends by looking for. Scouting partied have already been organised.

Agravaine looked like he was about to protest, so Arthur dismissed him.

'Uncle, your advice has not fallen on deaf ears. I have considered these things, but I owe it to her. You are dismissed.'

Without further ado, Agravaine swiftly turned on his heel and stalked out the doors.

What Arthur had said had been true. That had been taken into consideration by him, but he needed to know. He closed his eyes and for the millionth time, prayed that she was safe.


	22. Chapter 16

Merlin is in the library searching for recent records of missing persons, but is not having any luck. He asks Geoffrey of Monmouth about any disappearances from noble houses over the past 30 years. He says that he had heard some whisperings of a princess gone missing in a foreign land. Merlin voices his fears to Gaius as he notices that Morgana is laying low.

Chapter 16: 'Hide!'

'Scour the area! She can't have got far!'

Gwen woke with a start at hearing the man's loud growl. She thought she had imagined it, or it had been the last figment of her dreams slipping away. However, from the frightened look on Lira's face, she realised that this was not so.

She did a quick scan, trying to figure out what to do. She saw some a dense thicket of bushes starting to crawl into the villa, across the cold stone floor. She gently pushed Lira towards the bushes and gestured towards them. Without a second glance at her, she dived under the thicket.

Gwen grabbed their sleeping rolls and cookware, hastily putting it all on top of Amicia. She then led her away into the woods, and tied her to a tree amidst huge blades of grass that rose higher than either of them. She went back to the camp, hearing running by her, the men hidden only by the trees and extreme undergrowth. Gwen saw the thicket from the other side of the wall, Lira's terrified face peering out from under it, almost invisible in the near blackness in the shadow of dawn. She had only just dived under next to Lira when the men came into view.

Gwen shifted herself slightly to get a better view of the men, trying to figure out who they were. She saw 14 boots, the black breeches going above her line of vision. 7 thugs, all armed from the menacing look of the bottom of their sheaths, and searching for someone.

Maybe the someone next to her.

Gwen looked at Lira from the corner of her vision. Silent tears of fear and desperation were pouring out of her hopeless eyes. Some of the boots had walked away, out of the villa, but two pairs of feet stayed where they were, by the thicket they had concealed themselves in.

'There's no one here. What do we do?'

'We wait for orders. That's what we do.'

There were two of them talking, deciding their chances of escape. A note of annoyance seeped through the first one's voice.

'But if they are here, then they'll get away.'

One of them took a step toward the one next to it. The sound of a sword being drawn slowly filled the muffled silence, and by the strangled gasp and the quickened breathing of the one to the right, the sword had been pressed against his throat.

'I didn't ask for your opinion you little maggot. We wait for orders. Clear?'

The sword was sheathed, and the man walked away.

The sun's golden light slowly sneaked its way through the trees to the hazy fog that had settled around the trunks overnight. Gwen and Lira had been laying under the thicket for well over an hour, with wen comforting Lira as she clasped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from making any noise that might give them away.

Gwen prayed that they wouldn't find Amicia, hidden amongst the overgrowing grass with a lone tree in the centre of that green sea. If they did, their escape would be extremely limited. She kept quiet and prayed to any god who was listening that they would make it out alright.

It was a little while longer before the sound of a horse came echoing through the trees to their ears. Gwen felt hopelessness crowd her rigid emotions. No, they couldn't have found her horse. She squeezed her eyes shut so hard that the blackness of her closed eyelids started to turn purple. Listening more closely, she opened her eyes again in confusion and thankfulness. That wasn't her horse. The heaviness of its hooves landing on the ground as it walked were too heavy to be her, even with Lira or her riding. As it came closer, it whinnied slightly. It was too deep to be her.

The horse pulled up next to the thicket, its rider staying seated. A pair of boots quickly walked up to the horse.

'My Lord! There's no sign of the slave anywhere!'

So it was Lira they were looking for. Gwen glanced over at her. Lira had stopped crying, but now she was shaking like a leaf caught in the breeze.

'Keep searching. She won't have got any further than this, if she isn't dead already.'

Lira's shaking continued. Gwen put a reassuring hand on hers and gave her a tight smile.

'Yes my Lord. Men! We make camp here tonight!'

Gwen's unfaltering hope dimmed slightly at this announcement. She was hoping that they would move into another part of the wood to continue the search, thereby giving them a perfect chance to escape. But it seems it was not to be. Now, Gwen would have to risk getting past them with Lira to Amicia, if they hadn't already found her already.

She couldn't do it during the day. It would be only too easy to spot them running through the trees. They would have to hide under the thicket until night fell again.

Darkness seemed to take forever to creep over the land again. By the time the sun had set once more, both Gwen and Lira were incredibly thirsty, hungry and exhausted, despite not having gone anywhere. They both had pains in their muscles from not relaxing their positions throughout the day.

They could hear the rough laughter of the thugs in the villa. The crackle of flames and the shimmering light indicating they had a steady blaze going, and the smell of cooking meat made their mouths water. Everyone would be in the villa to eat. There was no better time to run then now.

She moved her stiff legs forwards an inch, then moved her arms forwards too. She continued like this till she was out of the thicket, except for her calves. She paused a moment, listening to see if they had heard her. Another gruff laugh told her that they didn't even expect her to be there.

She lightly hopped to her feet, and pulled Lira's hands, helping her out. They still suspected nothing, not even when Gwen accidently stood on a twig, making a sharp crack rattle in their eardrums.

Now came the hardest part.

The way to the huge grass field was across from them. The blackness in the forest would obscure them from one of the thugs seeing them, and they would be marginally safer. The catch was that in order to get to the part of the woods, they would have to creep right by the empty doorway, where the thugs would be able to see them in the circle of firelight.

But that was the only way to get there, so she had to do it.

Gwen shuffled over to the very side of the crooked doorframe, pulling Lira after her slightly. She took a deep, silent breath and stuck her head round the doorway.

They were all there, laughing and eating like they didn't have a care in the world. She started counting how many there were. One…two…three…four… She counted about twelve of them altogether. Lots of them had scars on their faces; across the cheeks, across their eye sockets, around their lips. One of them made a remark, and they all gave another bark of scary laughter. She quickly withdrew her head to the shadows, her breath catching.

This was it. The time was now. She could hear her heartbeat rattling around her eardrums, her eyes switching restlessly between the inviting blackness of the grass field, and the imminent danger of the firelight, flickering at the side of her vision. Gwen took a heard the rushing of her blood, pounding through her veins to echo in her hearing. She glanced behind her at Lira, who gave her a deer-in-the-headlights expression. She counted down on her fingers

Three.

She moved her feet apart slightly, bracing herself for her sudden sprint to the grass.

Two.

She lowered herself, setting her shoulders to try and make herself as small as possible, to increase the chance of her not being seen.

One.

She glanced behind her to see Lira mimicking her stance. She took a breath that filled all the holes of her lungs.

Run.

She grabbed Lira's grimy hand and went as swiftly and as silently as her legs would carry her. Before they knew it, they had passed by the empty doorway and were on the edge of the grass fields. They dove into the huge black blades without a thought, still holding onto each other.

Gwen stopped in the grass, her breath being the only sound apart from the slight rustling of the blades from the breeze that cut through the trees. She tried to get her bearings, trying to remember where she had left her horse in these green knives. Where was Amicia?

She swivelled her head around. But there was no sign, no sound. Nothing.

There was a soft snort from in front of her. It must have been a good few feet off, but her heart was sounding so loud in her ears that it still made her grip Lira's hand a little tighter, and jump out of her skin. She let out a breath that she didn't even realise she had been holding, and stepped forward.

The sight of her beloved horse had never given her more comfort. There she was, stoic and pawing a little at the ground. She pulled Lira along after her to the horse, where she hurriedly, and with shaking hands, put things back in the saddle to make room for the tow of them on Amicia's back.

Another loud bang of laughter made her hands work and shake faster, her breath quickening. _Come on Gwen, come on._

After what seemed like a lifetime, she lifted Lira onto the saddle, following and being seated behind her. Not even pausing to see if the thugs had caught on yet, she rode as fast as Amicia could go through the trees, not looking back.

She had escaped another brush with misfortune, like with the wolves, like with the bandits. And as Gwen rode through the silver land the moon had bestowed up the earth, she felt deep down that it wouldn't be the last either.

Merlin had been there for hours, pawing through all these old and dusty tomes of records of noble families. Nothing. No mention of a noblewoman, or daughter of a nobleman, having gone missing in the last twenty years. Merlin sighed, rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes and sighing.

'May I help you?'

He didn't expect Geoffrey of Monmouth to be standing next to him, but his hopes had somewhat diminished and all that was left now was a void where his confidence of finding something had been.

Merlin didn't beat around the bush.

'Maybe. I'm looking for records of missing noblewomen in the last twenty years.'

After Geoffrey's quizzical look, Merlin said the first thing that came to mind.

'Errand for Gaius.'

Merlin knew it was an extremely poor excuse, but it did seem to lay Geoffrey's confusion at rest. Or he just masked it.

'I' haven't heard of any disappearance of that sort for many years. I'm sorry I cannot be of assistance.'

That statement made Merlin's already shattered hopes crumble even further. He gave another weary sigh.

'Is there nothing, nothing at all? Any rumours or whispers of anything like this?'

'Well, no, I-'

Geoffrey stooped short, his brow furrowed into a deep frown.

'What?'

'Wait a moment, I do seem to recall-'

Geoffrey moved over to a different bookshelf, with Merlin trailing after him. He pulled a book in a certain state of disrepair from under a pile of other books in the same condition. As he turned the pages, some came lose in his hand.

'It should be-Perhaps here-No,no-A different book?-No, I'm sure it was in-Ah, here it is.'

Geoffrey's mostly incoherent mumbling stopped, and he pointed a worn finger onto some beautiful, curling writing. Merlin peered down at it, making out some of the ink on the page, and quickly scanning through the lines.

'Foreign talk has spread to this island-A large, rich kingdom-princess lost-'

That was all Merlin needed. He snatched the book from the table and ran all the way to Gaius's chambers.

'Merlin!'

'Gaius, I think I've found it. It says here that a princess from a foreign land went missing about fifteen years ago.'

Merlin lay the book down on Gaius's workbench, and he turned it back to the page which he had been reading. Now that he wasn't scanning through the lines, he had time to read it properly.

'Year 465 of the 4th age: Foreign talk has spread to this island. Rumour has travelled by word of mouth, even to the reaches of the kingdom of Camelot; a large rich kingdom to the south of us, across from the barrier of water, has had their young, and only, princess lost to them, or taken from them, it is not clear. However, this is only rumour, gossip between citizens, and will surely die down. This missing princess's fate is yet unknown.'

Gaius had read it at the same time as Merlin.

'Fifteen years? How old is Gwen now?'

Merlin remembered her birthday months ago. He had brought her a bouquet of fresh wildflowers, the dew still on them. He remembered since he smelled like flowers for the rest of the day, and Arthur thought he was wearing perfume.

'She is twenty two.'

'That would make her about seven at this time.'

'Do we have any way of knowing if this missing princess is her or not?'

And once again, Merlin's hopes dimmed.

'No. No, we don't have any proof. We don't even know if it is her or not.'

Gaius seemed troubled, which Merlin picked up on.

'What is it?'

'It seems, Merlin, that there is more and more chance of Guinevere being a noblewoman. Gwen is already in danger, being alone out there, but if Morgana knew of this-'

Merlin didn't need him to continue. He knew that Morgana would target Gwen again, this time maybe killing her. And Merlin would not let that happen.

'Morgana can never know.'

Gaius nodded, and Merlin went back to studying the passage.


	23. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: 'Flight across the river'

Gwen rode as fast as the wind, Amicia's hoofs on the moistened soil thudding dully. Lira's grip tightened around her waist to avoid sliding off the end. They had swapped their positions on the horse's back, but before they could do much more, the sound of the thugs' horses started growing louder. They had been found.

Gwen realised that they must have heard them galloping away. She cursed herself for not being more careful, but she had been so desperate to get as far as possible from the villa that she hadn't considered it.

The thugs' roars of anger brought her back to the present, where she was riding for her life, trying desperately to put as much distance between them and her as she could. The trees started to thin out, and she found herself riding directly through a meadow with gorse bushes lining the outside, their smell filling her nostrils.

Directly breaking her cover gave the thug's a better chance of catching them, or taking a shot at them with a crossbow. But it also in turn had an advantage for Gwen, and she could see how many of the thugs were after them.

It seemed to be every one of them at the villa that night. All twelve of them, with the scars and bloodthirsty looks in all. The trees grew up around them again, and they were back in the forest.

One of them was directly behind her, a few paces the only distance between them. Huge foliage told that no-one had been there for years, and Gwen used that to her advantage. She took a sharp corner, only to find that another thug had come to cut her off.

Just as she was about to crash into the other horse, she saw an opening between two trees. Without hesitation, she made for it, the thug in front and behind her having to reign in their horses sharply to avoid each other. Gwen let a half smile cross her face.

She wove between the trees again, leaping over the fallen trees in her path. Lira pushed herself further towards Gwen to tell her something.

'I remember this way. There is a river up ahead; the Rillebrand River.'

Rillebrand. Gwen suddenly had a flashback of hearing her father tell her about the river. How it was a dangerous river, because every year…

Gwen let a twisted sort of smile come across her face. She knew how she could lose these brutes.

She needed to get across before the others, to make sure she was out of the way when it happened. She kicked Amicia a little, making the horse give her last remaining stamina and speed to this run. The ground started to slope, meaning they were getting nearer to the riverbanks. And just in time too, for the sound of the thugs was getting uncomfortably near.

The sounds of the river grew louder, and Gwen found her horse's hooves splashing the shallow waters. It was so shallow that the river had almost stopped flowing. If it was this shallow already, it must have been mere moments until the river gave Gwen the desired effect.

Gwen drew up to the other riverbank, stopping her horse and turning to face the thugs. They arrived seconds later, pulling short from seeing her stop before they got deep enough in. Taken aback at this, they didn't know whether to continue the chase or to stop.

Only one of them was not fazed by this; a thin, weedy man with a mutilated ear and yellowing teeth. When he spoke, his voice was grating, like he had rocks in his voice box.

'Give it up girlie. You cannot escape us. Just give us the woman, and we'll leave you alone.'

Lira's grip on her waist tightened. Gwen's resolve was set in stone. She was not going to let this ruffian take Lira!

Gwen felt a strange vibration coming through the silt. It was coming downriver at a great pace. All she had to do now was to get them to cross the river enough for it to hit them.

'If you want her so bad, why don't you come and get her?!'

Gwen drew her sword, raising it high above her head in a position that she had learned from Tristan. That was all the provoking the brutes needed. They started to pound across the riverbed, oblivious to the ever-growing shaking of the ground beneath them.

Gwen's hope faltered a little. What if they got over before the river had done its work?

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she saw what she wanted to see heading down the river; a huge wave about seven foot tall. The thugs had finally noticed this wall of water heading straight at them. But it was too late to get out of its path.

Gwen watched as they tried to ride away from it, going further downstream instead of heading for the banks. They got caught in its wake being swept along and down the river. Gwen still kept her sword up, in case one of them managed to swim across and towards her.

Satisfied that no such thing would happen, she sheathed her sword and turned Amicia, heading through the trees at not such a fast rate. She felt a tugging on her tunic behind her, and turned her face to show Lira that she was listening.

'Are you a sorceress?'

The question took Gwen aback a little.

'No. No, I have nothing to do with magic.'

'But how did you make the river flow like that?'

Ah. That's what had sparked the question.

'I didn't make it flow at all. I remember my father telling me about the Rillebrand River, and that once every year the rains from the springs and streams further uphill would come rushing down the river, sweeping everything along in its path. Then the water levels go down until the river is hardly there anymore, where it does it again.'

Lira's curiosity had been put at rest. They continued through the trees in silence, the sound of their saviour the river going down in their ears until it was no longer there.

Three weeks and six days. Arthur had only announced his plans of the search parties yesterday, but already he was counting down until the first ones were sent out. He spun his spoon idly in his hand, not paying any attention to the food on the table in front of him.

He remembered his uncle's attitude towards his plans. What was wrong with Agravaine recently? He had started to act very strange. Arthur had noticed it more and more, but kept on brushing it off. He trusted his uncle more than anyone; he would have no reason to harm him or use him to gain anything.

But he was acting oddly though. Preoccupied though he was, it wasn't hard to tell that.

He sighed, abandoning his food altogether. He wasn't really hungry anyway. He started to remember Guinevere again; her hair, her eyes, her laughter…

_Three weeks and six days_, he kept on repeating to himself, _three weeks and six days, three weeks and six days…_

Merlin was traipsing back to Gaius's chambers. He had been at the library again, with nothing new to show for it. He was about to head up the stairs to the chambers when a hooded figure caught his attention. He immediately stood behind a nearby pillar, examining the figure to see if he could identify him.

He was rewarded with a glimpse of black hair and dark eyes. Agravaine.

Agravaine stuck the shadows, obviously not wanting to be noticed by prying eyes. However, he had caught the gaze of a suspicious Merlin. All Merlin needed to do now was follow him…


	24. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: 'Unexpected Presence'

Gwen and Lira had reached a small town on the edge of a vast marshland due to heavy rains. It had been a lot harder to get to than to see, since they often found that bogs and swamps had made them detour around it. The sun had long since set, it had taken them that long to get here, and they were both very weary with exhaustion. Gwen had so very little money left, but she realised she needed to spend it to get a room for the night here. There was nowhere to sleep outside without fear of sinking into the bogs.

Gwen was so tired that she didn't even bother to look up at the sign of the inn. She just went straight through the door, Lira following close behind. She felt like something had hit her, for she remembered being a lot smaller, sneaking into inns and public houses to pickpocket drunkards. Part of her, the fearless irrational part, wanted to see if she could still do it without being seen, but the more logical side of her said it was too risky, and anyway, she had Lira to look after. If something happened to her, Lira would be alone again. No, no pickpocketing tonight.

Gwen swiftly moved between the men drinking and gambling, Lira holding onto the back of her cloak. The innkeeper was a long bony man with a sour face and yellowing teeth. Gwen was too tired to say anything more than necessary, so she just cut to the chase.

'I want a room for two for the night.'

The innkeeper's milky eyes scrutinized her and Lira. Then his features broke into a crooked smile, showing Gwen all his rotting teeth.

'Why, what pretty young birds you are. I have a lovely room available if you care to follow me.'

His voice was trying to be sweet, but it came across to Gwen as slimy. She followed him up the creaking stairs to the room he had spoken of, Lira following. She didn't even notice the man with a hood over his head that had been watching her and Lira's every move since entering the inn.

They reached the room, and Gwen saw that it would do very well for the night. There were two single beds next to each other with a stand in between with a small candle, which the innkeeper lit now. There was a washbasin and a tiny hearth that was full of dry wood. Yes, it would do very nicely. Gwen asked for some ale and food to be brought up, and gave the innkeeper her last remaining coppers. He grinned at her again and stumbled away to do as she had asked. She went over to the washbasin which held some lukewarm water and stared at her reflection. My, how much she had changed! He face was streaked with dirt and her hair has tangled all the way through, her eyes the only thing unchanged about her appearance.

She heard creaking behind her, and turned to see that Lira had sat on the bed, her eyes staring unseeingly ahead of her. Lira was in worse condition than Gwen was. Her dress was now rags, her whole body a lot dirtier than Gwen and her hair matted. Well, now that Gwen had somewhere to clean her and Lira, she got straight to work. She stripped Lira off and scrubbed her whole body with the now freezing water until she was shivering and her teeth chattering. Then she bade her into the soft bed and Lira was soon asleep.

Gwen went to wash herself next, but that was when the innkeeper came back up with two pitchers of weak ale and two small bowls of chicken broth. Gwen thanked him, and away he went again, back downstairs to attend the bar. She woke Lira from her dozing and gave her the broth and ale, which she ate slowly as if relishing the warm food and drink. After she had finished, she put the empty bowl and mug onto the floor and settled into sleep once again. Gwen now began to wash herself, the water turning brown from their dirt. She slipped naked between the covers for she had no nightgown, and went into a half sleep.

The witching hour soon came, and Gwen was woken by a sound. Had she imagined it? Probably. She was about to go back to sleep when she heard it again. No, there was no mistaking it. Someone was walking across the floor, towards her and Lira. Her heartbeat quickened, but she pretended that she was still asleep. Where had she put her sword? It was on the other side of the room. There was no way she could reach it. Then she remembered the other thing. She was naked under the covers. How was she supposed to stop this person who was stealing around their room? Like he was standing above her whispering in her ear, she heard Tristan's voice.

'_The key is to catch them unawares Gwen. Then you have an advantage. Then all you have to do is pin them down and they are no more a threat to you before they have time to blink.'_

Alright then. But how would she pin him down and remain covered at the same time? The darkness would give her an advantage in protecting her modesty at least. The person was between her and Lira now. Gwen gathered all her courage and shot straight upright, grabbing the man's arm. Before he could turn to look at her, she had swung her legs out of the bed, given him a hard kick at the back of his knees so he fell, put the other hand on his shoulder and twisted his arm into a painful position. Thank you Tristan.

'So, who is it that steals like a thief in the night into the room of two sleeping ladies?'

The man didn't answer her and Lira, hearing the commotion, had risen quickly pulling the covers with her. Gwen twisted the man's arm further upward until he gave a gasp of pain.

'Who are you? What are you after? Are you here to hurt us? Are you here to hurt Lira?'

Gwen kept asking him questions. This time he did speak.

'I, along with many like me, am here to free the innocent from the poisonous people who keep them.'

His voice held hatred. Gwen was confused. Poisonous people who keep them? Then it struck her. Oh, he thought that Lira was my slave. She felt like laughing at this. She was way to kind to keep a slave.

'In which case, your work is fruitless. She is not my slave.'

Gwen could just see the man's frown through his hood.

'What do you mean? Everyone with that branding is a slave.'

'Yes, a slave she may have been, but she is a free woman if I have anything to say about it.'

Gwen released the man and wrapped the covered more securely about her chest. He stood quickly and moved the shoulder of the arm that Gwen had been holding. He lowered his hood as Gwen lit the candle by her and Lira's beds. As soon as Gwen turned to look at him, she had to admit that this man had a rugged handsomeness about his face. His dark hair brushed the tops of his shoulders and his features showed that he couldn't be over 30. He had stubble that showed he had not shaved, and his skin was tanned from the elements. His eyes were hard to see in this light, but they appeared almost black. Gwen felt very undone by his piercing gaze, even more so as she was wearing nothing but bed sheets.

'Who are you?'

Both the man and Gwen had asked at the same time, and Gwen lowered her eyes a little. She drew her knees up to her chest to ensure that if the sheet slipped, he would not be able to see anything.

'You first.'

'I am Guinevere. And this is Lira. You?'

'You may call me Flints.'

'So you make crossbow bolts?'

He shook his head.

'No. Arrows.'

Gwen couldn't remember the last time she had seen someone using a bow and arrow. It was thought outdated, the crossbow now the favoured form of the bow and arrow. Like an urging, she longed to be able to hold a bow in her hand, and let the arrow fly across the distance between her and her target. Man she wanted to do that again. The silence between them quickly became awkward, and Gwen searched around in her head for something to say. Then she got it.

'Where do you come from? You said 'along with many like me'. So there must be more of you that free slaves, right?'

He gave me a surprised look.

'You are quick-witted. Yes, I said that there are others, but I won't tell you where they are.'

'I understand that, but I have already said that I do not hold her against her will. You must have come to take her somewhere. Am I right?'

Gwen gestured over to Lira, who was now lying down and watched them in silence. The man, Flints, looked uneasy for a split second. Then he just gave a weary sigh. He could most likely tell that Gwen wouldn't leave it lie until she got the truth from him.

'I come from a camp of runaway slaves. Satisfied?'

A camp of runaway slaves. It would be very dangerous for them, with people who would seek to recapture them and sell them off. Now Gwen understood why he had been so reluctant to tell her details.

'Do not fret. I will not tell anyone what you have told me, I give you my oath. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to enjoy what little hours I have left to rest. We must leave early in the morning.'

She lay down again, and Flints gave her a worried look.

'Where are you headed? The roads are not safe for two women travelling alone.'

No kidding. Gwen could remember all too well the bandits that had captured her.

'We are headed for the Glastonbury abbey, the place that Lira has decided to go.'

Flints looked over to Lira, who now had her eyes closed. Now that Gwen could see her pretty face past all that dirt, her sleeping features reminded her of an angel.

'I cannot let you go alone. I believe that you are not her mistress, and you have already pledged that you will tell no-one of the camp.'

He looked hesitant a moment before speaking.

'The woman, Lira you said her name was, may stay with us if she wishes to. You may come also.'

Gwen was feeling the blackness of sleep take her again.

'Hmm. Okay, we'll come to the camp. We shall meet you at the entrance of the town at daybreak.'

With that, Flints moved out of the room and clicked the door behind him. Gwen thought one last thing before she fell asleep again; well, won't this be interesting…

Arthur was lying in bed. _Three weeks and five days. Three weeks and five days. _He sighed. The countdown for the first scouting parties would be all he thought of now. It was driving him insane. How could one need another so much that they would lose their minds without them? _Three weeks and five days._ Arthur sighed again staring up at the ceiling. Maybe he should shorten the length by a week, and then he could find her sooner. _No, no Arthur, _a little voice told him inside his head, _you must be patient. You must wait. _Strangely enough, his mental voice was the voice of Guinevere. _Three weeks and five days…_

_That was way too close, _Merlin thought as he sneaked back through Gaius's chambers into his room. He had followed Agravaine through the forest, but had been apprehended by Morgana's men before he could hear what was said between them. There was no doubt Morgana had a plan that she needed Agravaine for. He needed to keep a close watch on him, and try to figure out a way to stop Morgana. He blamed himself for what she had become. She had needed a hand to guide her along the path of good, but because he had refused to tell her about her powers, Morgause her sister had offered her that hand instead. And now she had turned evil, away from her friends and family.

Merlin collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to undress and fell into a deep and dreamless. sleep


	25. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: 'Threats in the Shadows'

Like she had said, Gwen had got everything ready and was now waiting with Lira at the entrance to the town, situated like a little island on the sea of the marshes. Lira now had a scarf wrapped around her head and a cloak of her own. It seemed that Gwen was extremely good at pickpocketing. She remembered all the tricks that she had learned while she was younger, like making sure they were distracted, making sure she wasn't noticed by them, that sort of thing. She had found a little stall that sold clothing, and picked the warmest, sturdiest stuff she could see. Now that they were waiting for Flints to show up, Gwen had time to think.

Her first thought was of Camelot, the knights, Merlin, and Arthur. How much she missed them, but she had grown to like her new nomadic life, always travelling, never staying in one place for too long. She had grown accustomed to it. She relished the feeling of her freedom.

Then she thought of her dreams. That grand ship, the knowledge that she was a lady of privilege, the way she washed up on the beach and her life with the long dead sorcerer. She still couldn't believe it, but if she was a lady of privilege, who was she? A nobleman's daughter? A princess?

She could now see Flints riding a pony with another one in tow. He carefully made his way across the little walkways that permitted passage through the marshes, and came towards them. Gwen looked up at Flints.

'Ready to go?'

She looked at Lira, who nodded slightly. Before Gwen could speak, Flints hopped down off his pony and led the other towards Lira. Lira jumped down off Amicia, who shifted her stance slightly, and gently lifted herself onto the pony that Flints had waiting for her. Gwen lifted herself onto Amicia, and was instantly more comfortable. She trusted Amicia completely, and loved that horse a lot. She was glad that Isolde had given her Amicia. She didn't know where she would be without her.

Flints and Lira turned their ponies to the walkways of land and started to make their way across, and Gwen followed behind. She had put her sword on her horse, where she could reach it easy. Now, as they made their way across the marshes, Gwen could think more.

Gwen was still undecided as to whether Flints was a friend or foe, but he had not shown any hostility towards Gwen apart from the time when he thought she was keeping Lira as a slave. Where this camp was she did not know, so she was putting her and Lira's safety into his hands entirely. If he was acting as a friend but was really a foe, then he could easily lead them to an ambush, or leave them to wild animals or in a labyrinth where they could easily starve to death. Gwen got a cold finger tickling her spine when she thought of that. Was she wrong to blindly follow this unknown man? Had she acted rashly? She checked her instincts, which had honed themselves since she had started this life, and they told her that he could be trusted. That was good enough for her. They slowly weaved through the tricky traps of the marshes to their destination; the runaway slave camp.

Merlin was running an errand for Gaius. And was worrying about Gwen, Arthur, Morgana's devilry and the sly cunning of Agravaine at the same time. Gwen should be alright. He had cast a protective spell over her, so strong that Kilgharrah had said he could feel her. Arthur was becoming so despondent that he hardly ever asked Merlin to do anything for him anymore. Morgana was working on some new plan to surely take over Camelot again, and Agravaine was her spy within the walls of it. Whenever he thought about it all, his head started to implode. How was he supposed to sort this one out?

Before he could walk another step further, Agravaine had grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

'You really are an annoying little pain that won't go away, aren't you Merlin? I don't know what it is you saw, but don't even think about running to Arthur about this. After all, who is he more likely to believe? A whimpering little no-good servant or his trusted uncle and advisor? So go in the knowledge that there is nothing that you can do to stop us!'

That was it. Merlin had had enough. He saw red at that point and turned the tide of threatening back on Agravaine.

'Agravaine, shut up!'

He had got hold of his wrist and was slowly turning it, much to Agravaine's wild shock at the fury blazing in his eyes.

'So, how did Morgana turn you into her personal little puppet? What was the promised price Agravaine? When everyone was dead you would take your half of the treasure? You know, Arthur may be blind to your true loyalties, but don't underestimate for one second how painful I will make your miserable little life if any of my friends fall to harm! So go run back to Morgana like the snivelling weasel you are, and go in the knowledge that death will find both of you quickly if harm befalls any of us!'

Merlin let go of Agravaine's arm, and stalked away. He could both whoop and curse at what he had just done. He had wanted to say that for so long, and now Agravaine had something more to worry about than disappointing Morgana. But then again, he now had more reason to get rid of him. And of course he would tell Morgana of this, but he might not since he would look like a foolish coward in front of her if he complained to her about him. He would most definitely have to watch his more now, more so than ever.


	26. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: 'Seddi Mynydd, The Mountain Seats'

**Hey everyone. Thanks for reading my story, and I'm sorry it's taken so long to update because of school and exams and whatnot. I wanted to ask all your opinions on the truth of Guinevere's origins.**

**You already know that Guinevere is of noble birth, but what kingdom is she from? She could be from a country that already exists like France or Italy, or I could create a fictional place like an air city or a proper land country. I also got the idea that she could come from a place of legend, like Atlantis or maybe from Avalon or something. Let me know what you think in a review!**

**Thanks**

Gwen and Lira had finally reached the end of the marshes thanks to Flints leading through the safe paths. Gwen turned to look behind her, and she could barely see the town from which they had set off from. She hadn't realised how large the marshlands were until now. She turned forwards again and urged Amicia on. Before her lay a huge mountain range that she did not recognise from any maps, but then again, she had not seen any maps that came this far west of Camelot. She shouted ahead to Flints.

'What is this mountain range?'

He casually relied to her.

'It is Seddi Mynydd. No-one knows what is in it, for many believe it to be impassable. No-one goes here, except for us. You just have to know the way through, and then you're as safe as can be.'

Seddi Mynydd. The Mountain Seats. Gwen thought it was appropriate, since all she could envision when she looked up at the tips which had turned white from the frozen mist was an enormous kingly god sitting on the mountain as though it were a throne, and the lands that he looked over were his by godly right. The path was beginning to become steeper, and Gwen had to focus more on the path and her horse as it would be very easy from Amicia to stumble and slip, falling backwards down the path again.

The walls of the mountain rose and they towered over the three moving forms that dared to enter their labyrinthine passages, filled with dead ends and rocky crevasses. Flints seemed as though he was right at home, and he led them through without even so much as a small hesitation that he was going the right way. Gwen was getting worried. Did wolves come here? Were other dangerous beasts lurking in the caverns and coves that they passed? Gwen could swear that the looming mountains were watching them with glee, sensing her fear.

_Gwen, stop it! _Her little voice chided her, _it's all old wives tales and paranoia! What's gotten into you?! _Gwen wasn't about to get cold feet about coming here, and anyway, she couldn't go back now. She didn't know the way back.

Flints started to whistle a tune, and it echoed around the rock walls and back into her ears again. It was very creepy, like the whistle didn't belong there, like the mountains were angry for disturbing the silence. The hair on the back of Gwen's neck stood straight up. And the foreboding feeling didn't leave. As they continued through the mountain paths in the greyness of the day, Gwen also got the feeling that it wouldn't go away either. Flints stopped whistling, and all was silent again in the passes of Seddi Mynydd, The Mountain Seats.

Guinevere.

_Guinevere. Guinevere. Guinevere._

His thoughts were plagued by her. Her voice. Her touch. Her smile. It was like an infectious disease, only no-one else had caught it.

_Guinevere._

At that moment, there was a sharp rapping on the door of his chambers. Arthur rose out of his dreaming of her and put the ring he had given her into the desk. He hadn't even realised he was holding it.

'Come.'

Agravaine sauntered through his door, and shut it behind him.

'Agravaine.'

Arthur acknowledged his uncle. Agravaine began.

'Sire, I have something to say, although you probably won't like it.'

Arthur's full attention turned to his uncle.

'What is it?'

'Arthur, I know that you still think of Guinevere, but as you know, it is your duty to marry and produce an heir…'

Arthur blinked as Agravaine's meaning sunk in. He wanted him to marry? To someone other than Guinevere? No. He would not do it. It was Guinevere or no-one.

'Uncle…'

Knowing that Agravaine was about to be contradicted, he pulled the best card he had on him.

'Please Arthur. It's killing you, being shut up in here. It would be logical to marry. You must know this?'

Yes. Arthur did know it. He remembered the time that Uther had tried to marry him off to Princess Elena, with him being unsuccessful. No, it would be Guinevere or no-one.

'I understand uncle, but when I find Guinevere again, I will marry her.'

Agravaine gave Arthur a stern look.

'She's not coming back Arthur. Why do you still persist that she will? There is no hope Arthur. For all we know, she could already be d…'

Arthur cut him off.

'Don't. Don't say it uncle. And she will come back. One day.'

Knowing that his efforts were fruitless, Agravaine turned and walked away.

'And Agravaine…'

Agravaine turned back to Arthur.

'There is always hope.'


End file.
